A POET DRIPS

A POET DRIPPING THEIR SOUL OFF THE SUN

TIL EVERY POET FADES AWAY ONE BY ONE

BLENDING A POEM IS AN ENDLESS EXTENSION

THE POET THEN THRUSTS INTO DIVINE INTERVENTION

SO YOU SLIT YOUR WRIST, NO RESPONSE, NOT A DRIP

 YOU’RE AN ICY ICICLE SLOWLY DRIFTING AWAY, INTO THE COLD

FADING INTO A STRAIGHT LINE AS THE POEM BEGINS TO UNFOLD

RHYMING VERSE TO VERSE, EVERY NOW AND THEN MAKING THE CURVE

  POETRY BUILDS BOUNDARIES FOR THE FOUNDATION OF YOU’RE POEM

POETRY TELLS A STORY WHAT STORY ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL

YOU’RE ALL ALONE WRITING POETRY STRANDED IN A ROW BOAT

IN THE THICK OF YOUR ART, YOU BECOME AN MAGICAL POET

AND WHEN THAT SPECIAL POEM COMES ALONG YOU FEEL IT, YOU KNOW IT

BUT 90% OF THE TIME YOUR UP ALL NIGHT WRITING IN THE GRIND

THINKING YOU HAVE POEM, YOU LOOK DOWN SAME WORDS YOU WROTE A

 THOUSAND TIMES

TRYING TI FIND THAT ONE COMBINATION OF WORDS THAT WILL RHYME AND SHINE

TO GET RESPECT OF YOUR POETRY PEERS, IS SOMETHING A POET HOLDS DEAR