Just another dreamer with a pen
not quite talented enough
yet often feeling unappreciated
volumes of verse remain
read and yet unheard
like elevator music
the background to a moment
a passing in someone's day
unnoticed, unimportant
still, still we dream on
foolish writers, pen in hand
wanting, waiting for that one
magical moment
we are heard, known
and just talented enough
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I have in my life met many ‘important' people, not many inspired me.