I do not like my poetry—
Not a bit
Not at all
I do not like the fumbling—
The awkward
The hard
I do not like mixing words
Meshing sentences
Together
I do not like throwing phrases
Off cliff edges
Brazen
I do not like spilling sentences
Of many different lengths
Like so
I do not like the pattern
And less—
The rhythmic flow
Because I have none
When I try
And I never could find
A style truly mine
Mine never could compare
I'm no Frost
No Poe
No Poe
Poe Poe
Yet
I like words
I like making
I like mixing
And like baking
And creating
All these phrases
Even if not
Scintillating
So I hope that
Maybe one day
I'll feel proud
Of all these poems
That I call mine
Even if they're not
Sublime
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this, it speaks much truth