Excellence can speak so fluently. <br />Hearing perfected poetry from promising poets. <br />I had aimed to win before viewing the warzone. <br />My ammo consisted of only this wrinkled sheet filled with amateur words. <br />I didn’t know I’d battle against such elite warriors. <br />Doubt converts into reality. <br />Reality is that defeat awaits me. <br />I quickly crumpled up this paper. <br />Self labeling my skills trash, <br />the only thing I’m aiming for now is the garbage can. <br />As I progress my mind is drawn back into past portraits. <br />Painting all the times I spent writing this. <br />Sketching all the times I spent reciting this. <br />Framing all the smiles my teammates engraved in it. <br />Not because of its quality, but because my heart created it. <br />I forgot that this 'amateur poem' is a pro at representing me. <br />Regardless of the number of points it receives it won’t count. <br />Only the master can decide when its art is a masterpiece. <br />Confidence reaches out and uncrumples this paper. <br />My name is called to perform. <br />As the stage echo's this poem, <br />I learned how perfection is born. <br />Perfection is not born perfect. <br />So I’ll keep raising my poems towards it.<br /><br />Nine Tails<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crumpled-papers/
