A Liar Poet Poem by Abdul Wahab

Poets are accused to be a liar
But here in this poem I am telling you to believe me
For the reason that though I write poems
Yet I have not become a poet
And poems are not poems either they are true confessions
The true perception and conception according to my heart and mind
Till now there is nothing wrong
Neither with me nor with my poems
We are both going perfectly hand in hand
But if I go like this few lines more
Then I fear this could be a poem and I could be a poet
No more I could hold up tight what I promised to you
I am itching to tell you a true lie
That I gave my all what I had to my love
And I was happy because she received well
So far so good, yet it does not become a poem
My honesty and truthfulness did not get any recognition
So I am telling you now a big lie that I am big poet
Do you still believe that poets do not tell a lie?
Squarely the onus is on you, I am getting late bye, bye!



A liar Poet

Poets are accused to be a liar
But here in this poem I am telling you to believe me
For the reason that though I write poems
Yet I have not become a poet
And poems are not poems either they are true confessions
The true perception and conception according to my heart and mind
Till now there is nothing wrong
Neither with me nor with my poems
We are both going perfectly hand in hand
But if I go like this few lines more
Then I fear this could be a poem and I could be a poet
No more I could hold up tight what I promised to you
I am itching to tell you a true lie
That I gave my all what I had to my love
And I was happy because she received well
So far so good, yet it does not become a poem
My honesty and truthfulness did not get any recognition
So I am telling you now a big lie that I am big poet
Do you still believe that poets do not tell a lie?
Squarely the onus is on you, I am getting late bye, bye!






A liar Poet

Poets are accused to be a liar
But here in this poem I am telling you to believe me
For the reason that though I write poems
Yet I have not become a poet
And poems are not poems either they are true confessions
The true perception and conception according to my heart and mind
Till now there is nothing wrong
Neither with me nor with my poems
We are both going perfectly hand in hand
But if I go like this few lines more
Then I fear this could be a poem and I could be a poet
No more I could hold up tight what I promised to you
I am itching to tell you a true lie
That I gave my all what I had to my love
And I was happy because she received well
So far so good, yet it does not become a poem
My honesty and truthfulness did not get any recognition
So I am telling you now a big lie that I am big poet
Do you still believe that poets do not tell a lie?
Squarely the onus is on you, I am getting late bye, bye!







A liar Poet

Poets are accused to be a liar
But here in this poem I am telling you to believe me
For the reason that though I write poems
Yet I have not become a poet
And poems are not poems either they are true confessions
The true perception and conception according to my heart and mind
Till now there is nothing wrong
Neither with me nor with my poems
We are both going perfectly hand in hand
But if I go like this few lines more
Then I fear this could be a poem and I could be a poet
No more I could hold up tight what I promised to you
I am itching to tell you a true lie
That I gave my all what I had to my love
And I was happy because she received well
So far so good, yet it does not become a poem
My honesty and truthfulness did not get any recognition
So I am telling you now a big lie that I am big poet
Do you still believe that poets do not tell a lie?
Squarely the onus is on you, I am getting late bye, bye!




A liar Poet

Poets are accused to be a liar
But here in this poem I am telling you to believe me
For the reason that though I write poems
Yet I have not become a poet
And poems are not poems either they are true confessions
The true perception and conception according to my heart and mind
Till now there is nothing wrong
Neither with me nor with my poems
We are both going perfectly hand in hand
But if I go like this few lines more
Then I fear this could be a poem and I could be a poet
No more I could hold up tight what I promised to you
I am itching to tell you a true lie
That I gave my all what I had to my love
And I was happy because she received well
So far so good, yet it does not become a poem
My honesty and truthfulness did not get any recognition
So I am telling you now a big lie that I am big poet
Do you still believe that poets do not tell a lie?
Squarely the onus is on you, I am getting late bye, bye!