It's Just a Poem

It's just a poem Oft I write about heartbroken, When I haven't gone through one. How luxury and beautiful love could be; I scribed, but never been loved with the nature so spectacular. It's just a poem, only a poem. Introvert I Am, in reality. My worries; an unspoken sea, But in papers a well known outspoken writer. Never for once have I ever taste a kind and honey moonlight But I give almost all of it with my pen so sacred. It's just a poem, only a poem. Often I impersonate voiceless and poor Their worries, sorrows I tell them to the world When nobody ever touched the wound so Suited as mine. All, a poem- just a poem. Birthday wishes in my ink so reside When nobody knows my natal day. I dodge the snow and the Muse But they always find me. Why? It's just a poem, only a poem. I drizzle the worldly mirrors, When nobody knows what I look like. My poetry, a motivation Whilst noone cares to motivate me. It's just a poem, Only a poem.