I am a poet

Whose pen is inkless
Where words is scattered
With a poem that is rhymeless

I can’t construct a thought
that people could understand
I just write with a knot
Using my lazy hand

I share what I want to share
With my story that is endless
I write all about the things I care
Even to you it is pointless

Indeed a jack of all jack
An untouchable master of none
An isolated pariah
A not so important one

Well this is actually a story
Of someone’s who’s after his glory
Someone confused, so empty distraught
Compared to a season, his life is in drought

His journey is boring
His life is lacking
Wandering in the wilderness
With all his might and foolishness

This is not just a poem
of a nonsense poet
This is also his jaunt
So judge him don’t

Searching for reasons
Of all the things in this treason
Finding his sail for direction
Can’t barely make any motion

He is a loser in the making
Just like a faded drawing
Been left behind by ages
Been swallowed by his savages

A lone soldier in this battle
A lonely fisherman without a paddle
Seems like a farmer who lost his cattle
Yes deep inside he is brittle

Lining up the cavalcade
Of all the losers in a parade
Starting to quit and walk away
Going to a place real faraway

This journey must continue
So let us not go any further adieu
Just wait in line as if in queue
How this story will end without a clue

Well, His story is not yet ending
So finish this poem as if we’re hanging
Might as well there’s a good finale
Like a graceful bow in a ballet

Life is not life without a problem
Just like the most precious emblem
Endure the tough and bumpy ride
You are the driver so learn how to drive