A Writer Read Count : 108

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A
When the others already call me a writer,
 I tell them that I haven't prepared enough yet. 
 So that I can go out after the curtain is drawn,
 To receive the applause that belongs to my soul.  

When others tell me that I like to write
 More about pain,
 I wonder who has never suffered?

  Maybe only those who always smile,
 To make think the people,
  They are always happy. 

 I write as my heart dictates,
 When my mind can no longer think lucidly.
  I write in ink that bleeds red blood
 From the blue heart that is still flowing over head. 

 I let my heart speak, 
There is no censorship for it.
 I let my hand write words, 
Captivated on a sheet. 

 When others already call me a writer,
 I remind them that I did not invent poetry.
  I consider myself just a man,
Who has to learn how to deal with the pain...

Comments

  • ow i cried reading this

    Jun 14, 2020

  • Jun 14, 2020

  • Nice one.

    Jun 14, 2020

  • 👍

    Jun 14, 2020

  • 💜

    Jun 14, 2020

  • True that! 😥 The pain of rather your publisher eill accept your book an make lots lf money, or not. That's my pain of my caereer. I'm different from everyone else intelligent book wrinting, like how would some publisher accept mine not so intelligent?👏👍

    Jun 15, 2020

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