for the poets

all these poets

writing about love

but never truly knew

what love really is.

all these poets

writing about life

but never even bothered

what death can be.

all these poets

writing about their world

but not about

the world of others.

that every word they write

every drop of ink

every sheet of paper

every stroke of their pen

can all just be called

a waste.

all these poets

listen down here

where darkness reigns

there is no light

to read

your

words