Who Am I? (A Poetry)

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No, I’m not a storyteller,
No, I’m not at all a seller.
I’m a crafter,
I’m a creater.
I craft my stories,
I craft glories.

I literally don’t sigh
After dreaming too high.
But I do get tired
When my stories get fired.

I frequently get shocked
When my glories get blocked
By the hem that I never stitched,
As if I’m walking alone, completely pissed.

Yes, I design my work
Which sometimes, hit me like jerk.
But neither ‘m I, a sudden fire,
Nor do I wish to be called a liar.

I never knew any rhythm,
But can craft sitting with ’em.
I never saw the point where the sky and the earth meets,
But this imagination lends me my beats.

No, I’m not a gard’ner,
No, I’m not a pardner.
I’m a sweetener,
I’m an aromate.
I sweeten the words,
I aromatize their buds.
But neither do I taste them,
Nor do I dare to claim them.

I hardly find pleasure,
Even though gifted with treasure.
But I do feel praised
When my words are raised.

I suddenly get knocked,
For I often get mocked.
But I wake up every morning
As if “yesterday” was my last warning.

Yes, I live these words,
Which often bruise me like swords.
But neither ‘m I an orange of my gard’n,
Nor do I wish them to beg pardon.

I never heard of rhymes,
But can make them over into chimes.
I never wished to sketch myself in the stories,
But couldn’t find an alternate to live those glories.

No, I’m none of these,
No, I’m not one among this bunch of keys.
Yes, I am none,
Probably, someone of my own.
But neither do I find myself,
Nor do I wish to be discovered by someone else.

So dear readers, you really don’t need to find yourself. You need to discover yourself. And you don’t need any other support to do that. You are enough to discover and explore your possibilities.

“Your mirror lies Inside you”. Right??

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