Who Am I?

I am a beggar, Lurking after your eyes To raise up inked mites Torn pages, our hovel Rainbow of enlightment Proliferates along fingers Shy lips, Reluctant paras Blabbering unkempt debts They call it time waste I am a preacher, Mark thy verbatim letters Dipped in unholy Scarlet Petals of uncanny emotions Withers on worldly alter Glossary glossing glamour Miseries mending maladies Techniques being unborn They sentenced me Dead I am a falsifier, Brewing breathing fantasies Baiting their loyal ideologies Teenage, coffin for vagaries Sketching imprisoned lyres Memories sliced intentionaly With jewelled words and persona Muddled tales with tragic shadow They know me as a sheer failure But for my blinded mirror, I am a poet!