AM NOT A POET

I’m Not a Poet

I’m not a poet,

Not in the way that words flow easy,

Not in the way that ink spills from the mind

Like rivers of emotion onto paper.

But still, I try—

And in trying, I become the poem,

A reflection of what I can’t always say out loud.

I’m not a poet,

No lyrical genius,

But when I pick up my pen,

It bleeds ink,

Capturing fragments of thoughts,

Shaping my scattered soul into words on a page.

I’m not a poet,

A warrior who wields words like swords and arrows,

Fighting with a pen,

Leaving marks on hearts,

Turning blank paper into battlefields.

I’m not a poet,

But I’m learning

One line at a time,

One word at a time.

I’m still figuring out the path

That leads from doubt to clarity—

I’ll write, even if I don’t yet know the destination.

I’m not a poet,

But maybe I am the poem,

A work in progress,

A mixture of mistakes and dreams,

And all I need is my pen

To let it out.

I’m not a poet,

But maybe, next time,

I’ll write about the simple things,

Like a tree,

And call that my poetry.

~ Brayo Fyta