Stirring some cups of coffee of thoughts
     from ocean of ideas rose above through the sunrise;
I am a poet not, I am just a kid with boring words,
     critics are everywhere, how do you find my poems?

These graffiti on my mind hanged along the walls,
     are trying to convey who literally am I used to be,
with points of view, questions, which sometimes *****!
     But if you can only utter empty phrases, then shut up!

Do not judge me, I am no superman, am not that strong,
     I still bleed upon countless things people spewed out,
there is nothing wrong if I am drawn to pen my words,
     there is nothing wrong about poetry, right?

I am only a beginner, without fruitful thoughts,
     I am poet not, I am just a kid with boring words:
out of style, lack of knowledge towards once philosophy,
     so, how do you find my poems? My poetry?