Poetry, Or?..

Poetry, Or?..

A Poem by Omikron

Long I've treaded the lyric path
Unleashed my wailing, every drop of wrath
Found peace in these pages, a mental bubble bath
People often ask me - What's up with that!?

I've written secluded from critics and judges
Gathered power and inspo from pains and grudges
Wrote it, disliked it, erased all the smudges
Found cure in the details, accepted the sludges

Then one day, I was procrastinating per usual
Something put me in a state quite confusional
A lady with bright hair, strangely so suitable
Taught me that my poetry was delusional

On the other side of the screen, she galantly preached
As I focused on her brown roots, yet unbleached
Her wisdom and harsh knowledge she impeached
"The line between poetry and prose shan't be breached!"

I closed the window, seemingly untroubled
As for seven years, I'd been living in a bubble
But the words were planted, then they were doubled
My egotistical sense of poetry, in a rubble

She adviced me to read every letter aloud
And imagine I read it in front of a crowd
Learn what is and what is not allowed
Ground myself, and not be (too) proud

I thank you, lady with the bright, red hair
You carry a wisdom ever so rare
I will better my writing, I will dare to dare
Then maybe my words will reach you somewhere.

© 2022 Omikron


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Added on February 14, 2022
Last Updated on February 14, 2022

Author

Omikron
Omikron

Sweden



Writing
Shears Shears

A Poem by Omikron