Dedicated to erinbrandt7 for her support and love <3

I believed I was a poet ,simply because I filled
lifeless pages with perfectly slanted letters
of my own hidden thoughts and truths
that rhymed in all the right places
and explained feelings of different cases

Writing for pure pleasure, pouring out bottled emotions
which I felt would make minds wonder and hearts melt

Making use of golden metaphors,
figurative language
and giving myself a mental applause

Learning how to fly effortlessly
by imagining secret dreams of my own
and falling back to reality ,shamelessly

Drowning happily in the beautiful words
of foreign authors and poets

Until I finally realised I was just another simple human
who had fallen passionately in love with the art a pen and wild emotions could create