PAINS OF A POET (WHEN PEOPLE FAIL TO UNDERSTAND YOU)
Alas!
Here I am again with a lady
who has vowed not to trust me.
It just leaves me wondering why
This world has failed to understand me.
It pains like salt on
injury but this is
the man I am: Sincere and transparent.
I wonder why they dispose my dispositions
and believe nonexistent unbelievable.
why am I the one asking many questions?
Why do they mute and move away?
Alas! My innocent curiosities
has been arrested for meddling,
And my liveliness, artistry
has been penalized
For dubiousness and lust.
The offenses I'm accused of
The virtues I have are those they think I lack.
Why are the wrongs always appealing?
Why am I always seen as an evil genius?
Why do they see with their deceitful eyes
And not with their hearts?
They trust their sightless sights
but this mystery takes insights not sights.
This is sad.
I know you can't believe
me too,
I know you'd count complicated complexities,
I know you'd call this a poem and
forget poems are written from the heart
not just from the head.
anyway,
I owe my point to God who
sees
The hearts not you.
NOTE
This poem is dedicated to people like me who have struggled so
hard to make people believe they are innocents of certain indecency but people
never believed them; they believe they are mean when they are not.
This struggle is synonymous with the poets and other artistes
whose works are mostly Make-believe to change the world.
I urge you to shift your focus on God; it doesn't matter how
people see you, what matter is how God see you. Prove your point to God, not
them.
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