I am not Prose – A Poem

Every letter that I touch, my essence is such,

Words become of gold, my every stroke, Midas touch.

Neither do I follow the rules, nor conventions and  principles,

My rebellion is such, following the syntax is just too much.

I am the essence and expressions of an artist,

The yearning of a linguist that I am not.

I am an aesthetically architectured structure of words,

Just a piece of literature that I am not.

I am a Poem.

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