A poet is not just a poet-- A writer of his own thoughts, Or a dreamer, weaving a web of his beautiful dreams ; He should also be a blacksmith's hammer to shape the world on the anvil of his ideals.
And, sometimes, the heart doesn't need anyone to fix it. Sometimes, it simply needs to cry out, in pain; until it's empty. Then, when all the pus has been purged; it begins to heal, on its own. Alone. ❤