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Poetry Is...
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Old Poetry is wine
Flowing endlessly divine
Painting pictures of our hearts.
Linking fragments of our minds.
Leaving chaste all that we treasure
Poems serve as ways to measure
All the journeying we?ve made
Through inspiring endeavors.
~
Poetry to some
Is indeed the finest rum.
Once within it we indulge
And so breathless we succumb
To the weightless silhouette
That envelops every breath.
Losing every inhibition.
Pouring down what we collect.
~
Poetry is crack.
Painting pictures only black.
Like a taste that tries to quench
Yet reminds us how we lack.
Yes, we'll all shoot up a bit
Desperately as we submit
To the bottom of our souls
Lose the rush and take a hit.
