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How painful is it to be a poet, Who can't write. A poet who has thoughts, Terrible ones, But can't express. A poet with emotions. But was never heartbroken. A poet of a few words, And even those are not the fascinating ones. A poet who wants to, but can't rhyme. A poet who wants to but cannot write. {Like a Doctor Who Can't operate But a doctor can also be a poet from the heart.} A poet not so poetic. A poet like me. They tell me don't try too hard. It all comes from within. But how and when? Because I am desperately waiting for the time to come, When those words will flow out of the nib of my pen onto the paper/blank. As smooth as a river going into the ocean. Like a fine aged wine from the bottle. Because it is too heavy, To keep it all inside, Troubling my mind and soul, Like a thousand years old ghoul. But it is all Stuck up, jamming all my words. HE never gave me those beautiful words. I read, I read and I read a lot. Hoping It would be able to turn into something like it. (into those words) Like a poem. A flawless poem which leaves you gasping for breath. I want to become a poem. I want to become a story, Which makes you cry, itch and then leaves with an ache for more. I wish I could use those brand pompous words. The mesmerizing vocabulary, Impeccable rhyme, The exceptional emotion, preposterous thoughts. I don't complain. I just want to be. Why is it never enough just to be? And if you have to choose between, Being you or a poem: What kind of poem would you be? All these magnificent poets And yet there I am. Did I mention? Poet of a few words. Alas! Again Words, Words,  Words, I wish I had a way with them.
0
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 11:55 AM UTC
Poet of a few words.
How painful is it to be a poet, Who can't write. A poet who has thoughts, Terrible ones, But can't express. A poet with emotions. But was never heartbroken. A poet of a few words, And even those are not the fascinating ones. A poet who wants to, but can't rhyme. A poet who wants to but cannot write. {Like a Doctor Who Can't operate But a doctor can also be a poet from the heart.} A poet not so poetic. A poet like me. They tell me don't try too hard. It all comes from within. But how and when? Because I am desperately waiting for the time to come, When those words will flow out of the nib of my pen onto the paper/blank. As smooth as a river going into the ocean. Like a fine aged wine from the bottle. Because it is too heavy, To keep it all inside, Troubling my mind and soul, Like a thousand years old ghoul. But it is all Stuck up, jamming all my words. HE never gave me those beautiful words. I read, I read and I read a lot. Hoping It would be able to turn into something like it. (into those words) Like a poem. A flawless poem which leaves you gasping for breath. I want to become a poem. I want to become a story, Which makes you cry, itch and then leaves with an ache for more. I wish I could use those brand pompous words. The mesmerizing vocabulary, Impeccable rhyme, The exceptional emotion, preposterous thoughts. I don't complain. I just want to be. Why is it never enough just to be? And if you have to choose between, Being you or a poem: What kind of poem would you be? All these magnificent poets And yet there I am. Did I mention? Poet of a few words. Alas! Again Words, Words,  Words, I wish I had a way with them.
How terrible it is to be a poet from the heart, with the mind of a sane person.
#poet#terrible#poem#freeverse#newhere#words#trying#pain#wish#if
Prerna
Written by
Prerna
26/F
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 11:55 AM UTC
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