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.