the poet who did not know that he was one

once lived a poet who had
no idea he was a poet at all.
he believed his writing
was rather bad –
not worthy, even, for the wall
of a bathroom stall.
he never thought, instead
he might possess an ounce of talent
in his little head.
then one evening,
the humble poet sat down,
tiny face smeared with a
crooked frown;
he picked up a pen to write
– 0.7mm in size –
and upon completion,
he fought to believe his eyes.
as he stared at his work
all of his doubts were gone:
he was no longer the poet
who did not know
that he was
one.

© Rylan Skelly, December 2018


About the Author: I have a B.A. in Honours Religious Studies from the University of Waterloo and I love all major world religions – Eastern, Western, or in between. I’m genderqueer, and I’m comfortable with male, neutral, and female pronouns. I’m married to my dear wife Lynn, who is the love of my life, my best friend, and my muse. I think far too much, and often have too many ideas to know what to do with. And I am a doing being, just like you!

3 replies »

      • Haha, you’re very charming! But I’m sorry, I’m not an animator. I really wish that I was, and I always ask myself how do animators do it, but I guess we all have our own unique gifts. I actually am on the lookout for an animator as well. Besides that, I wish you the best of luck with finding one. I’m sure if you search an “animation” related hashtag, some amazing people will pop up!

        Like

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