Speak

The poet as an introvert:
can such a thing be true?
Can sharpened pencils be diverted,
thoughts kept out of view?

Can colors, vivid in their hues,
be filtered into grey?
Can the guitarist mute his blues,
the notes be kept at bay?

I know you fear the written word:
you feel you can't translate
the freedom of a flying bird;
can't capture love or hate

Indeed you must, it's up to you.
Sit down, and try to write
Each poet thought just as you do
You've just begun to fight.

Author notes: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2802602-Fyodor-Tyutchev-poem-prompt