Don't tell me I'm pretty
Tell me that I'm passionate
That I have drive
Tell me that I make you laugh
That I know how to make your day better
Don't tell me I seem nice
Tell me that I'm kind and compassionate
Tell me that I'm not afraid to dream and to dream big
Don't tell me I'm perfect
Tell me the you love me despite my flaws
That you want to spend the rest of your life with me
Don't tell me I'm beautiful
Tell me that you'll be faithful and forever true

Every poet has a truth.
The truth is, poets can lie.
Poets can lie and hide the truth.
Poets can also disguise a beautiful truth as a sinful lie.

We poets don't back down easily.
We poets want to win every conversation.
We very much prefer to raise our pens
To record our artful manipulation.

We write about our sorrows
Our nearest and dearest know nothing of.
We write about our joys
Our greatest challengers want to dispose of.

Do we know someone who knows us better?
Do we know someone who knows who we are?
Do we know if we are anything else but poets?

We are all the same.
You are human, as am I.
You see it straight, I see it in rhymes.
You like it easy, I like it fly.
You hear it quick, I take my time.
Do you know why?

'Coz every poet has suffered a lie.
A lie that ignites a fire for truth.
Poets can write the truth whilst hiding the lies.
How can we not, when -
We poets can disguise a painful lie as a beautiful truth?

Stuck in the fight for what is right only to fall everytime you try.
My Dad died, I'm shaking at night thinking about it. Why did he have to leave me when I need direction?
Every girl I've tried to get with realizes how messed up I am and leaves. Why do I seek worth in a partner?  
I'm not innocent or guitless, don't mistake this for me pretending to be a victim of this system.

Call me mad
nevertheless
I truly believe a life  
Without poetry
Would be a poorer life
A less happy life
an artless life  
A life without color
A life without tongue
no sounds to be heard
A life empty
of any real meaning