The world of the Misunderstood Poet

My world, as rosy as the daisy
Revolving around my moods, sweetly
Some days are high on creativity
Some days lag behind with adversity

My battles, the basis of my portrait
To win some I put forward my best trait
To lose some, I let go of my bait
In the end, my world opens to my own gate!

Never ephemeral, filled to its depth
With sensitivy and pain to its very length
Never totally grey, as angels fill my only heath
With the comfort I shall seek at the time of death!

My world, with its hidden secrets
Not to be memorised like the alphabets
Yet those remain my valuable assets
To be recounted through merry ballets!

My world, that of a broken poet
Seeking the vision of her love pet
Sweet it is at times, through the sunny clime
Though misunderstanding remains its prime!