Poetry Poetry
Poetry, poetry, oh how I love thee.
I would count the ways, if not for infinity.
The beauty of creativity, that comes out of me.
Distinctively, characterizes individuality.
Senses and emotions, everything experienced
differently.
Yet, i write what i feel, with hopes of connecting
everybody.
Conjoined for a moment in time, as all else remains
stationary.
Imagining the varying views, and effect is so sexy.
Often wondering why it was a necessity.
To write on paper expressively.
Pages in a book of life lived daily.
As all, I have gifts and abilities.
No better, no worse, just certain proclivities.
A blueprint imbedded in the wiring of me.
Architected by the father who lives heavenly.
Poetry, poetry, oh how I love thee.
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