Poet -This Poem Is About You

-Dear, Mr & Mrs Poet- Do you ever question where it comes from? This poem's about you, sit down and get a load off Tranquilize your pen, take heed to the ecstatic applause The things in life we take for granting, in time get worse From WHICH' our lives transverse, ascends a deep poetic curse You write almost everything, rehearsing every living verse Embezzling words, like Martha Stewart, ---NOT YOURS! Withdrawing from your substance, --yielding it to others, who aren't devoted lovers Spacing your lines, ready for reader's digest, Educating the mind, like Albert Einstein You paint a different horizon for the color blind, Drop a note, forecasting the news, that brings, Spring to mind Your adrenaline, leaves people with a feel good faint. At this level, Poet you're better than high speed Internet, Anything that makes you feel this is the real deal, Today, you write like there's no tomorrow, borrowing yesterday's clay Inspiring ink, left to right, feeding the need to breed a poetic degree Your dramatic dialogue, deserve 'The Peoples Choice award." I love the sweet audio, when you lowercase every word It's done so well, hell, let's never capitalize another word Reaching a point across, when capitalizing every letter, This is your world, take it, manipulate it, with the perfect stanza Produce it like a poetic film, imagery, action, CUT it like Jerry Bruckheimer One day Hollywood will incite a roll, looking for the best poetry soup rhymer Your tears and affection, you pour on partial paper, Showing every word you want to enunciate A SHOULDER-- gone cold, drowning, forgetting the normal way Writing about the pure religion that meets your light, A beautiful flower under the moonlight Hear the bells, Poe wrote about, adding sprinkles to the twinkle in your eyes, A redolent scent not meant to be forgotten, from Eden's garden Taking nature, by course, granting her a crown, before slamming us down I will call her out --The evil and the fury of a goddess, a beast This is my feast, I welcome you to my jungle, and the outer bounds of time. If you ever question where it comes from? Sit down and get a load off, listen---Where's the ecstatic applause? I'm not afraid to say, -----I'm Proud to be A Poet Without A Cause by;PD I do it for fun