Why I Can'T Be A Poet Poem by Shankaran Kutty

Those days when I was a little child
Leading life so fast and wild
When a ton of books I would pack
To carry to school and evening back

Friends I used to make at will
And found each one had an unique skill
And those they would display with pride
Jealousy alone, I had by my side

Some would each day a new song sing
And enthral with the joy it would bring
But each time I tried I would pray
The donkeys in the field would not bray

Some were good at telling a story
In their writing skills some found glory
Some were good at GK and Quiz
In music I found, some where a whiz

Some friends decided they would wield
Their prowess on the cricket field
Others were stars in local soccer
But when I tried, I came a cropper

Then I thought what was the least sought
And I will try at that was my early thought
Thus I decided I will become a poet
Though with my skills I wasn’t there quite

I dreamt of becoming the next Shelley
But soon I started looking very silly
For when I tried writing, every time
I would struggle for words, that would rhyme

A poet I realized, needs a lot of imagination
But my lack of it led to much consternation
I didn’t know how to select a theme
Then make it flow like the waves in a stream

My inexperience at poetry very soon showed
I couldn’t choose between ballad, elegy or ode
Analogy, epitaph or Carpe Diem
All I wanted was to squeeze out a poem

And when I wrote something so poignant and sad
My sister said, to be so negative, I was mad
So I thought I will expand my poetic range
And will try writing humour, for a change

But reading it, most just didn’t care
And those who read, gave me a cold stare
I knew I needed tough steps to ensure
As a poet, I had a longer future

On what to write I had no clue
No ideas sprouted out of the blue
I wracked my brains, but in my shallow mind
Something I could write on, I could not find

I had no topics that I could pick
Or stories that to the heart would stick
My day in this world as a famous poet
Was well past noon and reaching sunset

To write like Milton, Shelley or Keats
Needed inborn talent, were no easy feats
My efforts at poetry, fast lost steam
My life as a poet would remain a dream

Finally one day, I accepted the truth
Trying to be a poet, I won’t waste my youth
The truth before me, lay plainly bared
Of another poet, thus the world was spared