Anguish of a Poet
Pen on the pages
My skill through the ages
Silent as can be
But what do I see?
Thousands who watch them
As I am condemned
Shaken to their stems
Thousands will tremor
To their skills
That tear through the air
There’s my sad story
No one can even tell I’m there
Alone to myself
Never to themselves
My art is perfect
But I see in their sect
They stare like a zombie
None of them at me
No matter how I bleed
My soul into these
Pages here
They could not see
My art isn’t loud as theirs
It’s just for me
And what have I given to
This world?
Vicariously, I stand
And my soul unfurled
I’ll never be as grand as they.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
