Looks like I'm stuck
with what’s called by some,
my own, poetic “voice”.
But I’d love to write
like Keats, or Cummins,
or to be read as wide as Frost.
I’d love be as bold as Plath
or even half as known.
But I’m trapped inside
these words and forms, some flow,
some rhyming scheme.
And all to try and shout and scream,
so loud, but softly say:
Please listen to my little voice
I know it’s here to stay.
The low-rating troll could be a wholefood freak who'd read your staple diet on 'Snow' (fun piece...) : what no vegetables or fruit? Or do you grow your own? Have you noticed that some of the top poems got a low rating on this site? For a good therapeutic laugh, read the comment on Jenny Joseph's famous 'When I grow old'...
Thank you micheal! ! :) And Elf and Herbert. BTW, guys, would you get me the name of the rating troll? ? He just 'anonymously' hit me with a one.
Well Sandra, you're doing pretty well with the public, at No.316 on the all-time 'best poets' list...who's complaining? Not me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
To have a unique voice and be able to express your thoughts accurately...well, sounds like a poet to me: -) Nice piece Sandra