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Don't you ever love a poet for they are a fool.
Playing with deep and flowery words to write their unexpressed emotion.
They don't have anything to offer.
They don't have money nor gigantic castle,
They can't give you your desire nor your needs.
Really, they are useless.
Holding a pen day and night,
Conquering things with all their might.
Thinking bloody words to write,
Setting the candle as the light
In this darkness that blocks their sight.
During this midnight's cold,
A poem is mold.
Emotions swirling in every line,
Pain, sadness and regret are all combined.
Would you bother to read what I feel?
Would you bother to interpret my words?
Don't you ever love a poet for they are a love sick fool,
Expressing their emotions through poems and imagines things that won't happen in reality.
Yes, I am a poet.
A lovesick fool,
Who imagines, that you love me too.
--- Eirlys 💧