I Am Not a Poet

I had to write this poem for an English course and as you may see, I am not a poet. This is, probably, the only poem that will ever be posted here.

I could write a million words,
But this poem would not contain one
Because I am not a poet,
I am not going to compare your eyes to the stars in the sky,
Because not even the stars shine as bright.

I am not a poet.
I am not going to make an awful reality into something beautiful,
Because our world is a disaster
And there is no beauty in that:
A crow painted white is, you'll agree, not a dove.
And I am not going to speak of love,
Because love is nothing
But what I have read in fairy tales.

I am not a poet.
So tell me
What am I supposed to write this poem about?
A summer’s day where the sun kisses your skin,
A maiden, passion, obsession, loss
A drug trip sending me spiralling
And spiralling
And spiralling
An end that brings a new beginning which only brings another end.
I will not.
Because I am not a poet.