Unrecognized Verses

The words I weave, a tapestry of thought, Unfurling on the page, a silent song. Yet, the world may never know their worth, My poems, unsung, their beauty unsung. I write not for the praise, nor for the fame, But for the joy that flows from pen to page. Each line a whisper, a fragment of my soul, Shared in the hopes it may one day engage. The path to recognition, a winding road, Fraught with obstacles, both seen and unseen. But I shall persevere, undaunted by the odds, For my words are the canvas of my dreams. Though accolades may elude me, I'll not despair, For the true reward lies in the act of creation. My poems, my legacy, a testament to the heart, Unrecognized, yet forever in my possession.