Poem!
How dare you defy me
the words at my command.
I am your creator,
you cannot deny me
but somehow you do:
words gone AWOL,
escaped from my mouth,
I sent out the guards
but they came back with doubt
in a basket
like dirt from a harvest.
And this is the result,
a poem in rebellion
against the brain that spawned it,
all the words I tried to type
come out as if I yawned them,
too awake to sleep,
too tired to weep,
with just enough energy
to use the keys
to write a poem
that doesn’t deserve to
exist.
a great rebellion to a poem. sometimes our muse goes to sleep on us preventing the flow of words. but you did just fine,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An excellent poem. This happens almost with every poet, but few can describe the ordeal so eloquently as you did. Well done!