A poet is sitting by the riverside
I can see him staring at me
A gaze full of pity and disdain
As if I am the one to blame
Once there was the promise of harmony and creativity
Now I am trapped in his lack of singularity
And there’s only one poet to blame
One man who deserves the centerpiece
In this game of shame
For I am just a battologist’s shade
I am unable to avoid
The faults in his eyes
The tedious and battering curse
Of wasting precious potential
So I see the man whose reflection I am
And the way his eyes are fixed on me
And I see the proudness
Being devoured by the sadness
And I’m glad that I’m just a reflection
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 5:08 AM UTC
A poet is sitting by the riverside
I can see him staring at me
A gaze full of pity and disdain
As if I am the one to blame
Once there was the promise of harmony and creativity
Now I am trapped in his lack of singularity
And there’s only one poet to blame
One man who deserves the centerpiece
In this game of shame
For I am just a battologist’s shade
I am unable to avoid
The faults in his eyes
The tedious and battering curse
Of wasting precious potential
So I see the man whose reflection I am
And the way his eyes are fixed on me
And I see the proudness
Being devoured by the sadness
And I’m glad that I’m just a reflection
The second part of The poor man's poet of the people:
http://poetfreak.com/682421/the-poor-mans-poet-of-the-people.html
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