I lost my name
When I called myself
A poet.
A poet? No.
I corrected,
An encompassing
Writer.
I filled life,
I filled graves with lives,
And lives with lies.
I could pack people
In paragraphs.
I lost my name,
Healing.
Scratching,
Yawning.
The people in the paragraphs
Now bathe me
In their fame.
While I stand corrected,
Their writer,
I lost my name.
When I called myself
A poet.
A poet? No.
I corrected,
An encompassing
Writer.
I filled life,
I filled graves with lives,
And lives with lies.
I could pack people
In paragraphs.
I lost my name,
Healing.
Scratching,
Yawning.
The people in the paragraphs
Now bathe me
In their fame.
While I stand corrected,
Their writer,
I lost my name.
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