I am not a poet
I am not an eloquent man with a pen in my hand letting it dance along the pages in a captivating dance
It is a stop and go, stumbling and tripping over feet out of beat awkward hobble
I am not a creative person spilling my soul onto the pages like blood from a stab wound
I am a scab that keeps getting reopened small bursts of blood and healing and bleeding all over again
I am not in touch with my inner self i can't tell you how im feeling right now
i am a smooth hard rock weathered from years of wear
i am not a poet, i am a child writing stories