Here in this place where I once played,
midst memories now cast aside
The clouds my worthless life has made,
rain down in teardrops I have cried

I stopped believing in myself
and everything else
the day I realized that love is like currency,
a currency that, despite my sincerest efforts, I have never been able to work hard enough to earn

One night I thought
About how simple the poems that I wrote
I rarely used difficult words and languages
Nor very deep phrases and sentences.

Then I realized that I was wrong in every way
For poems are complicated and never clear as the day
Poems are ideas that is hard to fathom
Feelings and emotions from the heart, from the very bottom.

It is the scribbles of the mind like an abstract art
The pouring of a broken and a beating heart
Poems are the mirrors of each and everyone's soul
So its form is always different, some whole and some with hole.

Idioms, metaphors or any style of writing
Isn't what make poems twistedly interesting
It is what the poet want to write about
Through the paper and ink 'til it finally runs out