Ink-Stained Dreams

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Always the poet, never the poem
I write because I want to, all along.
But i yearn to be written, a story true.
To feel the words that comes from you.

I admire because I see the beauty in you,
But I want to be admired for what I do.
To be the ink of your pen,
The place where your journey begins.

I pen the feelings I dare not speak,
Hoping someone will read and seek.
To be the rhythm in your dance,
To be the thrill of sweet romance.

To be the whisper in the breeze,
To bring calm and gentle ease.
Through every poem that I create,
I long for words that will change my fate.

So here I am, with hands stained by ink,
Crafting worlds with every blink.
Deep inside, a longing stays,
To be praised in someone's gaze.

Always the poet, never the tale,
I write because I must, though my words may sometimes fail.
But one day, perhaps, I'll find my place in someone's heart, where love will fill the space, and my words will find their grace.

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