This is not a poem
and I’ll tell you why,
because it lacks meaning,
but you’ll still try.
It follows a rhyme scheme
and uses elaborate words –
I used the thesaurus
to identify and make myself feel heard.
This is not a poem
yet it has repetition
to exaggerate the same thing
and convey a meaningless erudition.
Ye still ponder over every line,
to prove thyself intellectual
and use a system of knowledge
to derive the hymn.
This is not a poem
as it has no message
yet it contradicts its purpose
as the moral is to not think.
But our minds are vicious animals
who categorise and find meaning in everything.
This is not a poem
because I simply won’t rummage
through my purse.
I’ll look through it deeply,
piercing my soul into it,
till you don’t use the same sentence structure
to make yourself feel whole.
I’m not a literary canon,
I’m just a third rate clown,
trying to tell you to be authentic
and lose that charade, pawn.
This is not a poem
and I’ll tell you why.
Because now that you’ve read it
I’m my own critic and my worst hit.
You’re merely a passerby
in my world who I think
I should please.
I am the messenger of a greater truth,
or so you think?
Saumya Rastogi is a 22-year-old journalism student, hoping to present the truth to the audience, when censorship and ownership is seizing the media’s legitimacy and authority. She is an avid reader who likes psychology and philosophy, seeking the deepest oceans of the mind, and finding the meaning of life.
Featured image credit: Hans-Peter Gauster/Unsplash
