PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I see all the little shadows,

I claim to be only a curse.

I am only a memory after all.

I breathe and make everything worse.

I am built of the moments they left me.

I run in the sand just to cry.

I stand and the floor drops underneath.

I don’t know the words, they’ve slipped by.

They trust me, they say I am the poet.

They tell me I’ll make it someday.

But how can I be the right poet

when I say the right words the wrong way?