"I Write, But I Don’t Feel Theirs"

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"I Write, But I Don’t Feel Theirs"

I write poems from my heart,
Each line a world I tear apart.
But when I read what others write,
I fail to feel that inner light.

I try to dive, but float above,
No spark, no pull, no poet’s love.
Their words feel distant, cold, unknown,
No echo stirs inside my own.

Maybe my mind walks a different lane,
Maybe their rhythm doesn’t match my pain.
My poems are my soul’s true voice,
Theirs just words—I make no choice.

Still I try, I sit and stare,
Hoping someday I’ll truly care.
That one day, their verses might touch me deep,
And plant a thought I long to keep...

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