I Do Not Need Fans, I Need Lovers

 

I had but a few lovers

They turned out to be fans

Of my poetry

Of me

But not my lovers

 

As and when the poetry grew

They could not see anew

Not imbue

They fell

Out of queue

 

A poet of sorts

I heard them calling

Me to whistleblowers

Almost there

But still hanging here

 

Poems stale

If you leave them bare, in mid air

Thus I need lovers

To keep them flowing

Through a simple act of blowing