Have you ever wondered how can those books with only a few lines on each page become the best-seller around the globe?

Have you ever wondered how can blogs with only poems thrive better than those with a diversity of contents?

Have you ever wondered why?

Jealousy comes apart from my biased mind. I am envious of their success, just a simple line or two, encapsulating seamless deciphers, capturing the beauty of the poet’s thoughts into minimalism, a heresy to me.

Sometimes I could not understand why people love poems, probably because we are living in this rat-race society where rushing to gain something is a norm among us.

Art comes in many forms, writing too. But, I particularly despise poems due to its length- mainly. How shallow I am until it is my turn to churn out some poems for my ever-needing-content blog.

I wrote a poem, my first poem was… (I could not recall) But, it was shorter and more compact compared to my usual writings. It was arguably above average compared to my normal standards of writing, I felt dirty for writing poems because using less words and imperfect English rules to construct a piece of writing.

Although the piece was short, but it was and is difficult to squeeze in my thoughts into it, I felt short.Writing should not be like this. That was my mindset, parochial. Writing should be… My mind stopped there, I could not formulate an answer.

Eventually, I turned to look at the bright side of poetry.

It is short,
It is simple,
It is like a picture,
Speaking a thousand words,
Illustrating vivid imagery,
Explaining what an elaborative long sentence
Would in a few words.

Blank spaces,
Ever present,
A canvas for your mind
To imagine.

Multiple sides,
Various perspectives,
Can be painted.
Colourful.

I started to pay some respect to poets who can actually weave good poems together, admire would be a strong word as I still dislike the length of poems.

What do you think about poems? Do you like them? Or do you not? Comment down below and share your opinions below! Thank you so much for reading!

Craving for more? Down below:
Stewards
A Letter to Self
Blacked Out
My Journey With Music
I Murdered Myself
The Remains of The Day by Kazuo Ishiguro (Book Review)
Sugar, Fats, And Sitting Too Much

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