A Poet always fools himself
Say he loves, but he doesn’t
Even when his words are gone
Will he accept to let them go?

He ends up being lonely
Many times he dazzled, the more he realized
Each pain is being written through reality
Why won’t it be eased by his poem?

If love is all that means to him
Happiness is the only reason to stop writing
At the end he sets all free beyond metaphors
Why doesn’t he just let it flow through time?

Words only keep growing stronger
Sentences were born from metaphors womb
She’s the gap in ballad of this poet.
But why do his feelings stuck on this poem?