The poet, I'm a poet
but what does this even mean
laying in bed thinking bout the words
that could be said
The words that will be said
Harsh truths, cunning lies
dying just like the flys
Do my words have meaning?
Or are they just a big bad fuss
But what will give my life meaning
if not my words?
The only things i can do is shout, lie, jest
The only thing i ever learnt was to speak
It was not taught by my parents nor by god
but by something deep inside of me
Something that wanted to be free
The sharp tongue was my preferred weapon
In the prettiest lies and ugliest truths
the one thing that could be trusted
I am a poet
YOU ARE READING
Short story | 15 minutes writing challenge
Short StoryI am trying to get better at writing therefore I will be writing a short story every day which will take me about 15 minutes to write. If you want to read it, enjoy :)
