I'm Not A Poet.

[Louise]

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I was never one with words.
I don't think I ever wil be.
My vocabulary is small.
Everything that ends up on this paper,
You've read it so many times.
No originality at all.

I'm not a poet.

I keep my mouth shut.
Never have something to say,
Or utter a single word.
Because every whisper that escapes
Is always so cliche.
You've heard it all before.

I'm not a poet.

When I see pure talent,
I want to steal the formula from under their feet.
But instead, I try.
All the words on this page is drivel.
I really have no skill.
I do my best, but why?

I'm not a poet.

"Express yourself" is the motto to live by.
But since it's all just vapid expression,
It's as though I'm expressing others.
I never wirite anything original,
Just the same stuff over and over again.
So why do I even bother?

I'm not a poet.

But if I stop being so pessimistic,
And never give up,
I can be surrounded by flattery.
Be no one but myself,
Learn through trial and error,
And receive that sweet sycophancy.

I can be a poet.

I don't expect anyone to read nor understand this gobbledygook, because it makes no sense.
Nothing ever does.