I am just another poet
Spitting out words
And beating them
Into a rhythm in the attempt
to capture your attention.
A poem created by a herd of terms
From my Lexicon.

I am just another poet
Spending the time
To make things rhyme
Taking different feelings
And dabbling with their meaning
Like dr. suess!
And the man on the… moose?

I am just another poet
Speaking of “original “ scenery and
Forming flowing meadows
With luscious green grass and
Sparkling clear springs
And engraving a clear picture of that meadow
In your mind

In that treeless meadow
I may add a  grey rabbit,
Tearing fresh grass from its roots.
And Donald Duck!
Trying to swim upstream in
His topless outfit
Of blues and greens
With flowers blooming on
Vines and a tear in the crotch of
His trousers as
Vivid as I can explain!
But still

I am just another poet
That will probably never
Be famous for my
Flowering friend poetry
Or fighting fireflies poetry
Or even my raging rants
That can go on forever
About democracy or equality or sexuality
That I can look at and see as the most amazing thing I’ve ever written!
Then you stand up

And talk about the dry desert
That has no hope of any life flourishing
Creating images in their mind
The mind's I was trying to get my picture into
And explaining to them, gracefully
Of the flower, that tried to bloom in that desert
The place where no hope could possibly be located
That flower
Tried to blossom
And show its petals
It tried so hard
But the roots went dry
Because the desert decided its water supply was meant
For something greater
And the flower died

So why do I write?
Why do i write?
Like just another poet if no one gets anything from it?
Writing another poem about love story
Then put it to rhythm
In the hopes that maybe in
100 years they’ll put my poem
To song with a terrible key
And may get 50 views on youtube
While yours shows up
On the “recommended for you” column
With over five thousand views.

I am a poet
Just another one at best
Who takes emotion and memories
Into a new form
Of graphite and flattened tree pulp
In variations of just 26 symbols
That are only recognized by
A mere third of the universe!
What is my point in writing?
Where's my “ milestone” in this art??
How can i make one if
I am just a
poet?