I am a poet wanting of pen and inks,
Lost in the land of words without bethinks.

I lost my voice just to sing like you,
And my beauty to shine as I glow in your gloomy light.

My foot hurts more than the legs I carried,
For I wear unknown footsteps to my path.

Your heavier burden became my loads,
For I lost my lighter baggages.

Of what life I live without me in it,
Or of what face I have with a dim clown in it?

Like an elf who can’t touch the top a shelf,
As I regrettably linger to retraced my lost self.

Why not share?

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