The Lonely Poet

I saw a thousand conjured up images before my eyes
a handful tales of truth and lies
waiting to be written, anxious to materialized
in sheets of papers and growing files.

So I write the scenes, give them life
watching it dance, images becomes alive
as my masterpiece is being read and praise
alas! a tangle of emotions on their dreamy face.

Yes, they read my poems but do they know the words?
maybe to some, they were just phrases rhymed and bold
but it is the pains I live with in this cruel world
so write I must...though it is my story untold.


I write my frustrations, my dreams and love
broken now and left shattered
and they did not even know how I have suffered
coz though it kills me I have my own story delivered.

When I grow older and more wiser
aging and dying hoping to be remembered
I will keep in my heart all those bold comments and sweet compliments
but also hoping to be loved and understood why I write those sad refrains.

Someday I will say my farewells
to my respected comrades and cherished readers
but still I hope as you read each words
I also hope you discern the truth of each poems I've told.