Am i a page to you?
A chapter
Or a whole story?
Do you see me or just the surface of my body?
Do you know what i love?
Do you care about what i hate?
If my mind is a palace - can you open the gate?
Would you even want to?
And if so - would you handle all that blue?
Or do you have better things to do?
Do you think that so far this poem is rather lame?
You can be honest - there won't be any blame
Beacuse sometimes that's just a part of the game
In which there is no winning or losing
Just better or worse days
Of makeing sense out of life's haze
Just know that i read the kind of poetry i would like to write
And i write the kind of poetry i would like to read
I love those moments when i sit in front of paper and bleed
For that's the way
As described by mr. Hamingway
When they asked him how to write
And he knew a thing or two about it
So same as him - i'll take my soul and try to translate it
And i'll be doing that on and on without end
Beacuse that's it - that's writing my friend
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Author:
//Blue Poet// (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 5th, 2021 14:58
- Comment from author about the poem: A pledge if you will...
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: Blue Poet
Offline)
Comments4
Wonderful words BP, I think we poets all write in this way, with the page before us and the pen in our hand our lives are bled onto the page.
Welcome to MPS.
Good write BP.
Thank you both 🙂
Excellent method! Thank you.
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