Poets logo

Lymerik

They Call Me Lymerik

By Rowan Finley Published 5 years ago Updated 3 years ago 1 min read

My Gift was that I could sing beautifully,

and play any instrument known to man,

but my Curse was that I could not hear any of it.

Notes flew melodically and gracefully.

Children stopped to listen, mesmerized.

Even the birds were jealous of my extraordinary talents.

Musicians dreamed of singing the way that I could sing.

My Gift was granted to me by the Prophet.

My Curse was bestowed on me by the Cursor.

Now, I wander around from town to city, aimless mostly.

I love the fact that people are truly blessed by my music and voice,

so I will never stop.

There are times when my sadness is so great however,

that I just have to weep and wail because I cannot hear what they hear.

surreal poetry

About the Creator

Rowan Finley

Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. Aspiring licensed mental health counselor. My real name is Jesse Balogh.

Enjoyed the story?
Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Subscribe For FreePledge Your Support

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

    Rowan Finley Written by Rowan Finley

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.