i am a sham of a poet

i mean c'mon now
  have you seen the works others produce?
the elegant turn of phrases
emotions running wild across the screen
  actual passion and muse blended in
their turmoil etched beautifully rich with poetic fury

compared to all that, what do these words really mean?

i blubber about with no cohesion
   i stutter my phrases with negligible seasons
that with each letter sputtered forth
    leaves for bad taste easily washed with more
  poets that can actually string together words
  paint pictures others have hardly heard

      what does that make me if not a sham?
     what does that make me if not a coward?
i did indeed choose poetry,
      but poetry didn't choose me
Written by schizodude (mere shadow)
Author's Note
this feeling comes when i see more talented poets and can't help but feel like i am unworthy to keep writing poetry
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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