The Poet

It has been a long time since the poet visited me,

Though the soul I have acquired seems empty,

No ink reaches the paper I so dearly hold,

And no word to resemble beauty roll of my tongue,

I sit at the window awaiting his arrival,

Hoping the morning will return to me…

The poet I used to be.

 

It seems so long since we last met,

The moon is just a moon,

And the grass simply grass,

When will he come back and grace me with his poetic voice,

Give me back the eyes that saw wonder in the world,

I’ve felt like a husk the day he left my life,

When will the poet set my soul alight once more?

 

Each day I pray that you’ll join me again,

Walk hand in hand to the same verse and system,

We both understand the rhythm of my heart,

Sometimes I think I see you as a ghost in my reflection,

Those are the days that I wonder…

Have you been there all along?

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Hard to force the Poet out. We must live and learn to create reasons to write. I like the journey you took me on in the poem. I did like the closing lines.
"Sometimes I think I see you as a ghost in my reflection,
Those are the days that I wonder…
Have you been there all along?"
Thank you for the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[Jack...]

Seems to me that this poet has returned to you my friend. There are many days this feeling, these question find us sitting and staring, but somehow the poets always returns. Very cool.

[Laminators Dubai]

its so thoughtful....you maintain the level equal in lines....so well writen....
good job! ^^

[MandaBear]

Sometimes I feel that way too. Like sometimes I have so many idea's to write about I am going to do this and this and then when I go and to it I have nothing. Great poem really =)