Are Poets Prophets?

She flies like a bird

In the midst of her writings

Yet she's not a prophet

She just calls herself one

Just to feel important in this world;

For I am not a prophet

I am a star that shines

Upon a piece of a broken rag doll

Throw me around

And you shall see

That I am weightless like the others;

For we are poets

And we are not prophets

Behold the pages of unborn thoughts,

Are poets prophets?

Who knows the spectrum?

It is interesting to know the exact;

Rag doll come upon me please!

And break the prophet's spell

For we are poets from a different spectrum

Are we prophets? I don't know!

For the love that we have is sacred

Behold the ringing of the bell;

Alas! Alas!

Such pretty thoughts can break our demise

For my rag doll is in love with me

And she loves my poetry

For the broken pieces of her existence

Are the very part of me;

Who on this earth shall be my destiny?