Genre: Life, Society
About Poetry by lars blichfeldt
I used to love hating poetry. Written by those who failed living the expected life themselves. Now wrapping up words in riddles and fancy glitter. To attain the unattainable. Narcissistic socialists breathing the universe while reminding the masses to be satisfied just looking at the sun. I did. I looked at the sun. Astonishing... Perhaps i was wrong. Perhaps i was the failure. I started writing. It felt refreshing. Pats on the back, Polite comments and praises. I was seduced. Intoxicated by appreciation. Soon i would be the lump of coal. transforming into a diamond. The winning ticket. The one in a million. Flawless. Unique. Without practice. Without effort. A unicum. This 'new' me.. A thinker.. A writer.. A word wrapper.. A poet.. What i loved to hate, I now hated to love. Thinking like a child. Naive like a child. I believed the sun turned around me. One day i might grow up. One day i might loose this spirit. Hopefully it wont be soon.
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