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Literature Text
I am the vagabond
Writing secrets on the wall.
I am the gambler
Waiting on the house of cards to fall.
I am the artist
Sitting—uninspired—in the dark.
I am the watchdog
Growing fat without his bark.
I am the writer
Fingers frozen on the keys.
I am the imperfect one
Longing only to please.
I am the broken heart
Bleeding long into the night.
I am the wrong-doer
Seeking to set things right.
I am the regretful one,
Wondering where it all went wrong.
I am the songwriter
Looking for his perfect song.
I am the poem
Unwritten.
I am the hymn
Unsung.
I am the words
Unsaid.
I am the task
Undone.
I am the plea
Unheard.
I am.
Writing secrets on the wall.
I am the gambler
Waiting on the house of cards to fall.
I am the artist
Sitting—uninspired—in the dark.
I am the watchdog
Growing fat without his bark.
I am the writer
Fingers frozen on the keys.
I am the imperfect one
Longing only to please.
I am the broken heart
Bleeding long into the night.
I am the wrong-doer
Seeking to set things right.
I am the regretful one,
Wondering where it all went wrong.
I am the songwriter
Looking for his perfect song.
I am the poem
Unwritten.
I am the hymn
Unsung.
I am the words
Unsaid.
I am the task
Undone.
I am the plea
Unheard.
I am.
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Another of my "inspired by one line I came up with" poems.
The first lines I came up with were "I am the vagabond writing secrets on the wall".
These lines were inspired by a homeless man who sometimes visits the underpass right by the Metro station where I live. He has written messages on the sidewalk in black and red pastels, and I've looked at them as I pass every day, but haven't actually stopped to read them.
I suppose I dedicate this to all those people out there (like me) who have regrets in life. For those who feel lost and misguided, stepped-on and lonely.
The first lines I came up with were "I am the vagabond writing secrets on the wall".
These lines were inspired by a homeless man who sometimes visits the underpass right by the Metro station where I live. He has written messages on the sidewalk in black and red pastels, and I've looked at them as I pass every day, but haven't actually stopped to read them.
I suppose I dedicate this to all those people out there (like me) who have regrets in life. For those who feel lost and misguided, stepped-on and lonely.
© 2008 - 2024 Whimsical-Realist
Comments12
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This is wow...just wow. Your wordplay rocks, the feel of the poem is completely awe-inspiring. This is one of the best poems I have ever read!