Poets Design

Poet’s Design When daybreak comes and I no longer care to listen for the mourning doves first cry, anticipate the sunrise in the sky or smell the apple blossoms in the air my passion to write poetry will die. When night falls and I hear no symphony in creatures that were once so dear to me, when heaven is not magic to my eyes and rivers do no draw me to their side, my passion to write poetry will die. When miracles are only fantasy and justice doesn’t matter much to me, My purpose in this world will cease to be; Life is written in my poetry.