I was known with a name,
Writing this poem not be fame,
It is because of curious feeling,
On what others are thinking.
Maybe nobody glance at my words,
Or give a praising as reward,
But I still want to try,
Although my wings still wet to fly.
My poem like a flower,
That planted among high tower,
Did anyone see my colors?
Did my fragrance smell by other?
I hope that someone see my light,
That shine between thousand of stars in the night,
Feel the warm of my word,
Of the poem that I wrote.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (My Poem by Listra Eva )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
- Where The Mind Is Without Fear, Rabindranath Tagore
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- If, Rudyard Kipling
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