Her poetry is
Fluent
Words flying away from the pages they call home
Finding their way into the mind of a reader.
My poetry is
Clumsy
Words running amuck across the pages they call hell
Trying to find their way into a proper order.
Her poetry is
A movement in motion
Bringing resolve into the hearts of humanity
Courage to live their lives.
My poetry is
A theory in chaos
Bringing confusion into the hearts of a rare few
Who desire to turn the page.
Her poetry is
Emotional
Telling a thousand tales with a hundred words
A sign of good company.
My poetry is
Pitiful
Struggling to find a decent meaning
A sign of low competence.
Her poetry is
Beautiful
With DNA made of every thought
Composed through her prodigious mind.
My poetry is
Alienating
Not what I raised it to be
Nothing I truly want to say.
Her poetry is
Effortless
Knowing no bounds or limits
Courageous as a soldier.
My poetry is
Incompetent
Bound by the cliché of rhyme
A slave to nonexistent rules.
Her poetry is
Revolutionary
A proclamation of love that says it all
A quote at the first page of a novel
The mission of life for the ambitious
And a snapshot of a generation.
My poetry is
Shameful
Stashed in the purgatory of my mind
In the darkest corner of my document folder
In ripped out notebook pages
Long forsaken in the bottom of the recycle bin.
Her poetry is
A legend in the making
A signature of a brilliant life
To never be forgotten
Leading her to discover
The long lost secret of painless immortality.
My poetry is
A long forgotten attempt
A laughable stain on my memory
To never be forgotten
Leading me to believe
That I am much more of a prose person after all.












