Forsaken Poet

 

My poem has pigeonholed me
now am all alone this winter
my pen probably thinks I am dead
for she went away with all my papers
now am left as poet who can only boast of old poems

words went with her
so did the imagery
structure
stanzas, rhymes and punctuation

now am left heartbroken
devoid of inspiration
since our cosy late night sessions are no more
She drained my ink dry


but I refuse to give up
I’ll survive to write again
another poem will find me
she won’t be as selfish
leaving me when I need her the most
I will find her a suitable title-my name
and pamper her with sweet words
spoil her with all the sweet things that poems love
So that another poet doesn’t take her away from me