There is one question I will be answering for the rest of my life. What’s a poem?
I don’t know…
This one’s a poem, I think. If I say it is then it is. Or at least that is the contemporary consensus. And of course who can argue with a poet in a time so free and open to art.
This is a poem because I say it is, but also because it reads like a poem, because it deals with poetic imagery and delves into a deeper meaning in a few lines. Prose do that to, but in prose there would potentially be more, a different tone, or just plain more to work with.
In the end the lines are blurry so enjoy the freedom poets.
Write what you feel. Let the openness of poetry be your gateway. Experiment. Enjoy. That’s all I have to say about this one. I’m not too enamoured with the revised version so there will be more critique on this one certainly.