I am no poet
I am neither a sculptor of words nor an architect of thoughts
I seek not to change the world with the pen
It's mightier than the sword I have been told
I long not to touch a soul with my words
For I prefer to leave still waters to their calm
Because I dare not try to conquer the tide I might stir into being
I take not sides
Social or physical
Religious or mystic
Good or evil
The spiritual or the free soul
I detest not the light and I adore not the dark
I stand not against the right and neither do I stand for the wrong
I long not for daybreak but I wish the night is shorter
I write this with no intention of letting you in on my thoughts
But I have been taught that
You don't prune the hedge if you aren't expecting visitors in the front yard
I write this to let me in on my own thoughts.
For language is mighty in unburdening ones own soul
Judge me not, for I belong to no side
Neither to the one you belong nor to the one you don't
I stand not in the middle because thus would be taking a position and I dare not
I seek not redemption because that would mean I belong somewhere
I don't
Maybe I seek asylum
Not like a victim of war in a foreign country
But as a victim of own mental slavery in this age of independence
I seek to break from the shackles
Shackles of words I don't understand
Of rhymes whose origin I trace not
Sometimes I am like the poet
But he has a goal for his words
Mine leave me in a dilemma and you in a twist of confusion
He is sure of what he writes
I am skeptical of why I even put ink to paper
I write in a state of oblivion
With my soul encaged in an abyss of doubt
Or maybe not
But I...
I am no poet.
