I Know the Poet
I wrote about my inability to write
and knew that I was wrong.
My inner flame found peace in words,
knowing that they failed indubitably,
but knowing also that I knew myself
The lack of definition engenders a search:
Where is purpose – meaning?
And I found it in the I-don’t know
and the I-couldn’t-say
and those this-thought-is-too-big-for-me moments.
There is peace in acceptance,
but there’s pride in seeking
so I came to know the soul of the poet.
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