When a poet fades -
I struggle everyday with my pen in hand,
I take a little break, but I'm still writing
Everywhere I go, the more I understand.
All that I know, I put onto paper.
I express my soul, and that of the earth's.
Changing my own perspective daily
I take note of the beauty in the dull.
I am blinded from inspiration rarely,
For I see the world in full.
But to see such a world can be a burden
For the world goes beyond words sometimes.
What am I to do when complexity is heightened,
When no words reprimand the beauty I find?
With what words then will I write with,
What echoes of my spirit will do nature justice?
I see now the world isn't meant for saving,
In petty words, of wisdom.
Beauty must be found with out craving,
Eternally, for a new expression.
Lust must be exchanged for love,
And love must be relationship,
So when I see things around and above,
I must know them as I know myself.
When I know the world like a friend
My writing will end,
For then I will never be lost
With company of complete content.
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Comments about this poem (When a poet fades - by Josh Alfred )
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
(5 November 1850 - 30 October 1919)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(25 July 1956)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
Harivansh Rai Bachchan
(27 November 1907 – 18 January 2003)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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