Feel-Eel

Who was I to fool you? Yet I fooled myself.
What more am I than a poet? I am not an artist, I am not an expert.
I have no skill, I have no talent. To you it was very apparent.
The only thing I know - it's a useless way to show - my thoughts, what I feel.
You see, I do not think, I merely feel.
And what I have is the most useless of skills.
What is this so called skill that gives me no thrill?
I write. Word. Letter. Nothing better.
Over-rationalising my every emotion.
Making each one a grand notion.
I write pretty little words of how I feel.
But do I really feel? Other than the feeling of wanting to be like the rest.
To feel...
It must be blessed.