They told me to pour everything I had
Onto that sheet of paper.
So I did.
Then graded my feelings
As if they could be right or wrong
And when I received the paper I got the A
But unsatisfied I tried again.
This time it was different.
I had nothing else to pour,
Because they made me empty
And asked why I was sad
And so I told them this:
Never pour your whole soul
Out onto the sheets of paper.
Because when you’re done
You get the grade
Then you think it’s over.
But you see my friends,
It never is.
Because then you’re empty.
And it was all useless.
That poetry,
Was useless.
the subjectivity of Art is an ancient debate. Thanks for sharing, Camilla Peace
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Camilla.I love it.You can write poetry pretty dam well. The pen will call you, the paper as well. You are not afraid to pour it out… this will tell during your whole life..you are a poet not for the marks not for the testers but for yourself..it might empty you now but you are a new mind and the writing won't let you stop miss poet.. Well done.