A Real Poem Poem by Chelsey M. Smith

She says
“Today I finally finished a poem.”
“ Congratulations.”
I say.

She says
“It took me two months.”
“Really? ”
I say.

On my face is a look of admiration.
So much dedication for a simple poem.
But my heart wears a face of puzzlement.
So much work for a poem?
A poem is free writing.
A poem is thoughts, feelings, emotions.
You write what thy heart feels, not what thy brain thinks.
Maybe –
If you want to get a message across-
You revise it.

But truly,
A real poem does not take two months.
A two month poem
Is like Galileo’s work revised by the Church.
A two month poem
Is like a three hundred page story being submitted for a paragraph of an encyclopedia.
A two month poem
Is not a real poem.

In a real poem,
You have something to say.
The words flow and after a moment of thinking,
They are before you on the page
A narration of your thoughts, your feelings.

Some real poems
Are meant to change something.
And then,
They may turn into a
Two day poem.
But never a two month poem.

Because a two month poem
Is not a real poem.
It is what you want everyone to read
Disguised as stanzas.

A real poem
Is what you want to say
That flows from the heart
And that every now and then
Breaks for the occasional stanza.