Should I Quit Being a Poet
Written: September 1st, 2023
Would You Love Me If I Wasn't A Poet? Sponsored by: Silent One
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If my words lacked flow, unadorned, and dry,
In the minds of those who mope and roam.
Poetry purls and parades its philharmonic prose.
If my ink dwindled, leaving pages bare.
Should you still sense my soul's splendor?
Where waltzing words entwine and endeavor
Would you still cherish me sans the poet's guise?
A stunning seemliness, a seraphic stake.
Now, we anticipate this mutual toast.
It's a tradition we've upheld, you and me.
for countless years.
However, what if I never compose?
What if my verses abruptly cease?
Will you still inure infatuation for me?
If my words no longer intertwine?
Will my verses strive to heave delight?
Even if they lack their former bright?
You offer unwavering support, truly!
My muse is born from deep happiness.
Delight in my dulcet discord—a deed
Without your input, my words carry no value.
It feels as if you favor my fantastic flexibility.
Poetry is in my blood; that verity is obvious.
Even if terms at times tangle.
I'm afraid you'll amplify apathy one day.
face futile files and fragmented facts
Still, your urging ubiquity dulls my iniquity.
A placid pithead packed with pride and purity.
Despite the ups and downs
You ceaselessly stood by me.
As my skills strive to strike success.
You are my source of strength.
In each verse I write, you praise
My poems find solace in your gaze.
But what if I stop being a poet?
Will you cast a blind eye?
Will my words still be worthwhile?
If I can't glide amid the lyrical birds,
I long for our ties to rise beyond rhyme.
May our love defy the flow of time.
You admire me beyond words.
But your mate is utterly unattainable.
Our steadfast solidarity supersedes art.
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