A Poet's Perspective

The old cliché that only the heartbroken can produce the best work

Only the broken can truly speak of beauty

Of all the battles, internal conflicts we’ve won and lost

I’m sure I saw you, there in the twilight

Maybe my dreams will entwine with yours tonight

 

Keeping a detached distance from what I observe

But I will make the mistakes I write about

Even if I contain the wisdom of ages within the pages

Written with paper and pen

I’m still as naive now as back then

 

The world will know my secrets

But I’m still ashamed of who I am

Hiding my failures in beautiful words

Hoping the world will never understand

 

Spills and mistakes across the works

Holding a mirror to myself, I despise what I see

Someone will adore the words and wounds that I conjure

Fall in love with all of my errors and blunders

 

In my heart pulses a lightning storm

Tomorrow carries in no easy answers

But would I be beautiful if I wasn’t broken?

Or am I driven by the toxic words others have spoken?

 

The world will know my secrets

But I’m still ashamed of who I am

Hiding my failures in beautiful words

Hoping the world will never understand

 

Every time that I’ve torn myself into pieces anew

I weigh my soul against the kindness of strangers

String up my essence and pass to me a happy criticism

The world is turning on another poetic cataclysm

 

The world will know my secrets

But I’m still ashamed of who I am

Hiding my failures in beautiful words

Hoping the world will never understand

The End

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