At what point am I known as a poet?
After how many stanzas and rhymes?
I've written some thousands of words
Yet my words are a way to pass time

Drizzling raindrops
Masked the mans freckles and tears
His flawed attributes

There, I've written some words
That describe both dilemma and pain
In a haiku format, no less
But from that- what have I gained?

Poem is quite the strange lad
As is Muse, his wife just as bad
They lure in the brains
Of us simple and sane
And we write till uncanny and mad

Wow, I've done it again
I've written a poem in style
You know, I think I'm a poet
Maybe I've been one a while...