The Poet's Burden Poem by Dorukhan Baris Oguzcan

A poem is not just lines on a page, Not ink confined nor words in a cage. It breathes, it bends, it dares to be, A mirror of time, a song set free.

It dances in whispers, in thunder, in rain, It stitches the joy, it cradles the pain. Not merely beauty, nor truth alone, But echoes of hearts in verses sewn.

What is a poem but silent art, A voice unchained, a world apart? Not all must rhyme, not all must soar, But each must open its hidden door.

So let the poet bleed his voice, Let every stanza make its choice. For in the space of ink and air, A soul is seen—a mind laid bare.