I once thought I was a poet
But I was fooled by my own mind
I was sadly tricked into thinking I did something useful
My thoughts trapped me in a world I thought I could live in
But in truth, I’ve been living a lie my whole life
I’ve walked this realm for years imagining my life if I were,
If I were only a poet.

I thought I was deep and my words had meaning
But now I can see the words turning to ash
Every minute I sat thinking and searching
Was simply a waste of time
“Those who can’t do, teach”
You’d know what I mean in a deeper way
If I were only a poet.

My mind, I suppose, is an intelligent organ
If only it were intelligent enough to tell me
At least warn me, that I’d never rhyme things right
Maybe that my words were pointless and less tragic than I assumed
I’m starting to think that nothing I see is “but a dream within a dream”
Edgar Allan Poe, if I’m correct
He was the real one; a poet by chance, not by choice
If I were older, we would’ve met
If I were only a poet.