This is not a poem

 

You will say this is not a poem

You will say there are no similes or metaphors

Like a line of crows

    sitting on a telephone wire

    a murder to all that pass

    afraid to fly on your own

You will say this is not a poem

You will say that there is no form

    That my words

        travel on

the page like

a path that

has faded

from the poems

of the past

You will say this is not a poem

You will say that the words mean nothing

That I’ve not said a thing

That there is no reflection of truth

    or painting of nature

    that there is no reason to read this page

But I write anyway

    Because I know that the best way to survive

        a murder

            is through poetry

Denotation Life

Happiness is just a cliché

A simile that is supposed to paint a picture perfect smile

To cover the cracks that show through your skin

This is not a hyperbole

Darkness outshines light, let’s be honest about

The paradox of this existence

The connotations are just too cloudy for anyone’s point of view

See this anecdote doesn’t have a happy Hollywood ending

There is no sequel to this short story,

only flashbacks that interrupt the narrative

Disrupting the tone of my verse

The rhyme scheme off

    because I write in free verse

    but with a sonnet mindset

I know no one will save these words as an allusion to explain

The irony of a story with no symbolism

Just a one star rating for this autobiographical soliloquy