Apr 2020
I'm haunted by the ghost of a young Bob Dylan,
followed by William Blake, beating a prophetic rhythm.
I'm a fraud, a flake, exposed in Plath's diary -
Maya Angelou has caged me, my song falling flatly.
followed by William Blake, beating a prophetic rhythm.
I'm a fraud, a flake, exposed in Plath's diary -
Maya Angelou has caged me, my song falling flatly.
This poem is about insecurities as an artist, being halted by your very inspirations.
(29/Genderqueer/Poland/UK)
Please log in to view and add comments on poems
