Why ask why I like your poem? Be courageous in your ideas and ideals. Be confident enough to know that your work is true to your vision. Artists of all kinds, but especially poets, are the philosophers and prophets of their generation. A revelation does not passive-aggressively seek to be worthy. It just is. Revelators, in the converse, often are compelled to seek praise with false humility via the age old pretentious depreciation of the value of their work in order to reap praise, which is the expected polite response. It is a waltz I choose to sit out. I feel it is less than honest and a disrespect to the poet and the poem to revel in such frivolity. Write for the sake of revelation, not for the accolades of topical praise. It is no business of the poet why a poem strykes chords with a reader. Simply allow it to happen. Talent and truth are not always equatable, nor are beauty and integrity always comparable. In the heart, a poet knows he is a poet. By the very construct of your words, Poet, may you be the caster of many spells. Thank-you for sharing a bit of yourself with me. I bid thee Love and Light.
I am a voracious consumer of the poetry using on this site. Just accept the compliment of a read or a like without having to examine it.
i'm not good enouph
i don't have the right words
i keep writing these stuff
to creat my own world
she was an average teenager
a normal living creature
until the day she faced failure,
since then , no one has ever seen her.
the first one ,
we'll call aladin
dark and charming
with bright black eyes ,
that leave me trembling
but what i hate is,
he is way too hot and stylish
he attracts way too many pretty chicks
he goes with them
and leaves my blood boiling
he's my 1st love
i'm his 14th
my first bf ever
god help me choose
between two fools
who are deeply in love with me
i don't know what they saw in me
A green eyed monster within,
in behaviour satan's akin.
Other's possessions are his attraction,
flies on wings of dissatisfaction.
Hopes more for other's loss than his gain,
can take ugliest of forms without constraint.
For the past years, your existence didn't matter.
For the coming years, your existence will always matter.