Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
She seeks purpose in herself, to become great, to make a mark on the world as so many have before. Oh how she writes till her hands bruise, carving her name to history Is it too late to be a prodigy? To be a muse? To be inspired, alive, young, hopeful? Is it too late to erase the writing on the communal wall? How she longs to be remembered Strives to someday write words as heavy as they. And how is it that with so few words her heart would be in your hand
0
Apr 1
Apr 1, 2026 at 2:41 PM UTC
The Want-To-Be Poet
She seeks purpose in herself, to become great, to make a mark on the world as so many have before. Oh how she writes till her hands bruise, carving her name to history Is it too late to be a prodigy? To be a muse? To be inspired, alive, young, hopeful? Is it too late to erase the writing on the communal wall? How she longs to be remembered Strives to someday write words as heavy as they. And how is it that with so few words her heart would be in your hand
AbruisedBrokenThing
Written by
16/F/Anywhere but here
Apr 1
Apr 1, 2026 at 2:41 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem