The power of this pen when put to page
allows my sharpened sonnets center stage
to pierce the pale and palpitating part
of each and every vagrants vacant heart.
Some poets scream their words into a mic,
still others express their hatred and dislike.
When we stand we have the nations eye,
and when we speak we guide the nations cry.
The words I speak are nothing but a sound,
and could never ere be heard from under ground;
but with the scribing of this tome on tree
can all within this sepulcher be free.
When all is lost the poet brings us hope.
When we must climb the poet throws a rope.
In our darkest hour he gives us wings,
and with the perfect rhyme he almost sings
These lyrics from the sky like drops of rain
arrange strange letters in a perfect stain.
Tears can not express in every way;
no action and no countenance convey,
but each and every sentence holds a thought
which only in succession can be taught.
Only in this poetry can you feel,
understand, learn to love and heal.
Poetry is the music of my soul,
and only in it's song can I be whole
this is the one. this is my favorite line,
"These lyrics from the sky like drops of rain
arrange strange letters in a perfect stain."
so cool!
Wonderful. Good job! All of your poems sound so beautiful. I like how you put your feelings into words.