Matched Each Other

Matched Each Other While often writing and here waiting Wondering what my mind should be relating To some subject which will be the best People will love forever and never detest. Why won't poets, a comment try to make Afraid it may cause much pain and heartache; Worry them about my poems I have chosen How poorly is their start as well as closing. Many prophets and poets prefer profane But to me this simply is only mundane Off many walls, paths and out of thin air With an outrageous attitude of I don't care. Then there are tanks referred to as septic Like poems put together that are epic Unless writer will start paving the way And preparing us for what he has to say. We always grow older when age increases And now can only absorb bits and pieces So take your time and small doses send Every thing will start to blend in the end. Much of this might be subject to debate How long does green poet have to hesitate Before we are attracted by his anxiety Which we have appeased by our sobriety. Could go on and on and on even more I like and prefer poem but you deplore Maybe with my efforts will start to gamble What is needed for my poems to unscramble? End up with simple case of pick and choose; Add more to the deluge and it can confuse; Will follow each poet's card game golden rule Look out for loaded deck and don't lose your cool. Once the ground, you gently start to land And adorable horizon just have scanned What came your way was only fair weather Now that minds and poems are matched together. James Thomas Horn Retired Veteran I don't anticipate or expect any comments regarding this poem. Only one super duper poetry souper will understand what I am referring to and talking about and coming from. Won't you?