EVOLUTION OF A WRITER
Poems In English
Maybe, poetry isn't about writing at all
To observe things is the greater perhaps.
How cocoons change to butterflies
And that soft textured are those wings of beauty.
And to watch, that charm flies randomly
From one pretty flower to the other
Searching for nectar deep beneath petals that glow
Oh, and once it does it flees to another
For more desires are waiting within, to be put to ease.
Maybe poetry isn't about the words we write,
It ain't about the emotions we're slaves of,
Incomplete things, maybe are what speaks of it.
And metaphors are what make it
And we see it from the angle we stand at.
Maybe it ain't about the fancy things we read
It is what the heart's gotta fancy for.
Maybe, poetry my friend is about uncertainties
Cause the next line, remains unknown
And yet poetry says, next lines never come
Present, each one becomes,
as these stacks wander upon them
Leaving the previous ones, some with full stops,
the others with commas behind
Passing by, are others with neither of these
But sure, those lines aren't alone,
For certainly, we know, unfinished stories untold
Oh yes, I gather this once again
Poetry, is all the uncertain things, my friend
Of how we see old men and women smile
With each mirth, a New wrinkle comes
And how for the young petals,
the old one weathers
Maybe, poetry isn't all the rhymes we hear
The smiles of yore souls it is.
It isn't about the greater things we know
It is the little things we would never perceive
Poetry ain't to be all at once
To know, no matter our efforts
Some things will always be left out, it is.
Maybe, it is the innocent things that occur,
even when fallacies take over.
To know all love is sweet, my friend
Whether given or received, it is.
It's about the simpler things maybe,
Yet, 'maybe' is what each of these remains
Uncertain, as it would be.