Take Me As Whole (An Average Soul) Poem by Samah Khan

The empty applause that my words procure
In my head, they lengthily ring, as if to say
You shall never add up, to be sure
To become what your mother said you may
But oh if my words were to impress
Would you then look upon me with newfound recognition?
So what must I make up, or what must I confess
Must what I tell you damn me to a worldly perdition?
I am but a pauper for words, one who sifts through
The carcasses and skeletons of poetry that was written before
Hoping for a spark of inspiration so that you,
You could find in me worth that you could not ignore.
Alas, I will never be more than what I am at present–
An average poet and an even more average soul
But if one part is ugly, all that follows will be decidedly unpleasant
So either take me as nil, or take me as whole.