Somebody Else's Poem

This is not my poem to write. 

Those are not my words to recite. 

for I lost ownership to those thoughts long ago when I tossed
them at the back of my head

and the guy who had them faded into a person that doesn't think like me,
 doesn't look like me anymore.

those are shivers that ran across my spine during passing conversations that sneaked themselves onto my ears on random afternoon walks

Shivers I never bothered to give second thoughts.
these are the poorest of metaphors,

the helpless mothers of words that had to abandon their children of definitions to die on cold pavements for the lack of capacity and empty slots.
these are the lonely lines that found no company to finish themselves into poems.
The psuedopoems that I had to tame down because I once felt were too insignificant to be written,

Too personal,

Too terrifying,

Too ugly,

Too stupid.

These are the neverminds and the 'nothing much's

those are shy ryhmes, ones convinced that they're too insignificant to be written yet my fingers itched too significantally to let them remain unwritten so they were only ununwritten in a way that never gave them their fair share of poetic messes.

This isn't my poem.

not my child.

I'm but a mere stranger burdened with it.

It's full punchlineless jokes,

halfassed metaphors,

And lists that never made it past the number 1- 

And they're not mine to recite, but I'll say them anyways so...
1-..