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Poem

My rhymes are not to stimulate
Nor accommodate for the way you feel
But it is who I am
That is the admiration 
Behind my self-expression

Regardless of imagination or fiction
It is the real world,
My real life
That flows from my mind to my pen
From my pen to my paper
And from my paper to society
That needs to realize, 
When it comes to me
I’m just keeping it real

Everyday events
Seem to trigger my senses
For my fingers will penetrate
And they’ll be nothing left but
A harmonizing ring
A song that seems to sing
A melodic tune of what I do

I won’t reason my feelings
But I can analyze
And learn to grow from where I am
Take a look back, and not
Justify my state of mind
But to let me be
And let it go

A poet is not defined
By the clothes they wear
Or how many poems they write
But the impact of their words
And the truth in what they speak
A poem is not defined
By how long or short it seems
Or whether it rhymes
But how it exemplifies you
And how it is plain to see
That without a doubt
It could only be
The work of a poet, me…

I reevaluate the situation
And my infatuation seems to grow
And yet you still should know
That I’m real
That this is real
And yes, I still keep it real
And nonetheless, 


I may never stop
As my rhymes continue
All my thoughts revealed

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