Selfish Poet
A poem about a poet
Enjoy my poems if you must.
Phantom words corporealized from thought.
Poured from my heart and soul,
I fear which do not belong to you, fellow spectator.
These words are mine.
These thoughts are mine.
They serve me and only me.
Fueling my creative battery,
an exercise that offers lessons,
so I may grow and write more.
Write better.
Write… truth.
Judge my poems if you must.
My spirit painted in English,
on an empty canvas,
delivered straight to the void.
Dozens of eyes plastered on these very words.
Your entertainment is secondary, I’m afraid.
Honing my art is top priority.