I am out trying to get ideas for a poem

I go up to you

and ask if you have any ideas

you stop, think

I wait patiently

and then you say

“Write a poem about your love for this book series I got you into”

I smile a little

then walk away,

I don’t want to say no to you

I start looking for something

a feeling

an object.

I go to the forest

hopeful to find

a raindrop

a treefrog

to explain all of these emotions

that makes me feel so small

now I sit and think

about poems

how they seem effortless

and they always have so much hidden meaning 

they are always beautiful and sweet

I want to do that

I want to be one of those people who are

destined for success

they are so wonderful.

Am I?