The Phantom Of The Poet Poem by James Darwin Smith II

Who am I?
Do you really want to know?
Truth is I took so many years to find myself
Searched high and low


So much pain and anguish
Living within these thoughts
Heart afterburning of each loving dead end
This soul was the board and life was the darts
Harbouring within these self-worried feelings
Life to me was a farce


Body so tense, So much fear
This I lived year after year
Hiding out my own existence
Never being persistent
Not for the ordinary to seize
But as I found out that was all just a dream


Now, Here I am
An enigma to some, a book to others
Improving so much
In mind, body and spirit as one


And love?
Well, I love myself
So much more work to be done
But that is the fun of it all

Who am I?
Proud of whom I am becoming
Truth is I am still searching
But I have learned height has no limit


I am high, flying further
This life expectancy is beyond the sky
Never will I ever feel like a burden


Who are you?
I would really like to know
This search for your life
If I have to
I will search high and low


Who are we?
But the yin and yang of a personal life itself


Soon all anxiety will be gone
And all intentions will soon be revealed


For now I cherish my independence
Nothing wrong with being alone


Who wants to be my metaphor?


This life is a book, but a mystery to solve
Even if with its enigmatic stories
It is opened up for you to explore


I am just a phantom poet
Nothing less, nothing more


I am just a phantom poet
Inside your mind


Wicked splendour
Oh, the unknown is so divine!