983: * ~ Am I A Poet? ~ * Poem by Catastrophe KING

I still remember when my papa told me to play with words!
Who bothered? For, I loved to play with guns and swords.
Nor did I understand anything more than the Rubic’s dawn!
Then, as I grew I learnt the art of dabbling with castle and pawn.

And, when in adolescence, I chuckled as the age motivated;
Grabbing the attention of lasses, kept us all captivated!

I still remember when my papa told me to play with words!
But, was I curious more and craved for the romantic cords?
This led me to do the obvious, when I was just fourteen!
And, I did not stop with that; I did it again when at seventeen.

Nineteen or was it Twenty, at that age I got blessed to fulfill!
Silence impersonate, I did keep her to myself and never let it spill.

I still remember when my papa told me to play with words!
Now, was I ready? I had started with pains - alike the bards.
My stillness was the felon, she was gone; and so was I lost?
Years had passed by, my voice choked! I knew not the cost.

Just the flash of her thought in my mind, would release a sonnet;
Then, why should you ask now, if I do recognize – am I a poet?