Not for me
the laurel
I don't qualify
at all-
simple poetry
I write only
as my muses call

masters
of the past
each at
their sublimest
that I recall

they are
the light
I'm just
the shadow
far, far away
from their poetic hall

yet, driven
by steps
large or small

up the writing wall
I must climb
my heart's desire
to fulfil
ere
my life's nightfall

Not now
but the future
shall reveal
my hidden story:
I'm just
the beginner
I'm not yet
myself-
still in formation-
that's the reality

half a voice only
at this moment
so tiny and faint
as from the wilderness
lost in the wind
an unknown identity

yet I care not
if none
would read
my story

after all
it's not meant
for posterity

I was
I am
and I know
what I should be.

I've chosen myself
not because I've talent
only that my life
can't depend
on anyone else
lest I were
to end
in my self-constructed
lifelong prison

to live
demands freedom
without which
I'd but be
an inane
and doomed person

Grant me resilience
not intelligence
the latter is not
life's quintessence -

the former
is my unfailing strength
and never has cause
for any absence

If I lose myself, death would be a better option-- I live because I've not abandoned myself, despite my weaknesses and failures, and also because I've dignity and honour, like everyone else in the universe.  

No one nor any single identity can ever take away my freedom and my right to be.

Don't polish
your mirror
it sees you clearly-
without error

don't go out
to buy another
it's the same you
you can't court its favour

I've not abandoned
myself--oh no!
I'm not lost at all
of this I surely know