"A Poet's Origin"
I'll tell you a tale of a humble poet
A poet who started with pain
Then she ended up with the same thing
The poet became a poet because of a man
Love isn't the reason the poet writes
It was pain who had the power and drive
The poet writes but only does it when needed
Poems are not her way of expression back then
But now words are overflowing in her mouth
Emotions that are lingering in her mind found their way out of her tongue
Feelings thumping in her chest ripped her heart apart
Butterflies in her belly are weak to make her bleed words
But the pain when her heart slipped was the one that caused the motion
Motion and emotion forced her hands to write
Her hands are slaves to her bleeding heart
But the poet was freed one day
Happiness reigns in her heart and she abandons her role
The poet was not a poet anymore but the butterflies in her belly
She was the wind, free to feel anything
By that I mean love,
But love is cruel so she lost her wings
The poet became a poet once again
Because there is nowhere else to go, no one else to be
This is my origin.
I am only a poet when my heart is breaking
Pain is the only thing that makes me write
So I hope you enjoy my suffering
Pain will be the only conductor of my broken rhymes.
A/N: Hello, I would love to hear your thoughts about this poem. You can write your favorite line or the phrase/line you like the most in this poem. Mine is down in the comment section. I'll be waiting for your answer. Once again thank you for reading! Love you guys, bye!
PS: I don't have any photos to post so I'll just post random drawings of people HAHAHAHA. I drew this or fun so might as well use them in my book.
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You are Unfortunately my Amaranthine Night sky
PoetryA Compilation of Self Written Poems and Songs This is book is made up of 70 poems specifically made for a certain somoene I rather not say. He was an inspiration for all of these poems written from tears. I spent so much time writing my thoughts int...
