//Shakespearean//
Now I don't know that I'll ever be one of those fortunate few
Blessed with mastery of words to enchant those who hear
With tales of agonies, mirth, romance, and cheer,
And enough hope to make people dream anew-
But if I can send out a little wisp of motion
To stir up a spark of emotion in one heart,
this is my devotion.
//Poet//
For All my life, I have been learning
How to be anything other than a song.
I thought I was more- I was not;
I thought I was less- I forgot
Who I was, and then I stopped
Living for lack of breathing.
-
Author:
Rose of Sharon (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 5th, 2025 07:33
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Poetic Licence, Cheeky Missy, Soman Ragavan
Offline)
Comments4
A poem of pledge and one of excuse for being. These travel deeper than the written word and are more profound that the verse. Well written
Thank you soren 😊
Wow! Wholly relatable. The last line, pun not intended, took my breath away, because anxiety does this to me. Leaves me not breathing. So I could literally feel that as I was reading. The poem is truth! Stark and true. Well done on these, my friend! 🌹👏
Thank you my friend, I’m very honored that it resonated with you 🌹 😊
You are most welcome. I am a fan, fellow poet and friend!
Wonderfully written and very relatable write, now relax as they say, enjoyed the read
“I stopped living for lack of breathing...” In fact the poet never dies, for he or she is immortal. After our physical death our works speak for us.
“To stir up a spark of emotion in one heart...” Is it a particular heart or a random one ?...
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