Poem I

Am I a so called poet, with these words that rhyme,
These thoughts found never in any time,
This horror I inspire within no soul,
This mad character I made, that plays no role?

Am I a so called poet, if I place words
Not knowing where I'm heading towards,
Not knowing even anything at all,
Being a character that plays no role?

Is this right perhaps, and am I wrong,
Are you weak, and maybe am I strong?
Is there any joy I might find,
In winning a prize, if one of the two was blind?

Is it me, or is it another,
Do I struggle, or don't I bother,
Should I, could I, did I, will I
Face the lies I now imply?

Is it love, or may it be not,
Is this seen, and felt, or not,
Should I be among those, pray,
Is this strange, stays in my way...?