Strange

It is said by those who are 
                           Strange, 
                           that Hell... 
                Is the feeling of inspiration  
                with the inability to express it.
                         and Heaven... 
                From beginning to end 
                is the perfect poem 
                written in one stroke of a pen.

                These are the ones we call 
                           Strange!

                           Strange
                 are the those with ink in their veins.
                           Strange,
                 are the those who's fingertips are stained.
                           Strange, 
                  are the those who can't sleep at night,
                           Strange, 
                  is the passion that drives them to write.                                    
                            Strange, 
                  are the those who use language as a tool,
                            Strange, 
                   are the those like myself, 
                   who hated English, in school.
                            Strange, 
                    are the those fired for writing on the job.
                    Lost their inspiration, 
                    damn they got robbed.
                            Strange, 
                    are the those now with time on their hands,
                    looking for a sympathetic listener 
                          who understands.
                            Strange, 
                    are the many things
                    that go unexplained.
                            Strange, 
                    are the those who are called 
                          poet by name.
                            Strange, 
                    the only description 
                    for those with words to sell.
                    For only with time, 
                    do their stories prevail. 
                    The romantic pictures they paint,  
                    the epic adventures they tell.
                           Strange 
                    is why they share
                    their raptures of heaven 
                    or their exploits in hell.
                           Strange 
                           is why 
                    they  take you with them, 
                    wherever they dwell.
                                 ...
                            Strange
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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Krutsinger Avatar
December 31, 2019 at 11:48 PM
Uh-oh! You truly did find me in this poem. Especially in this line: "Strange, are the those who can't sleep at night"
Kinard Avatar
January 1, 2020 at 8:20 AM
Strange are those who are called Poet by name. And you be happy to know that most poets aren't wrapped to tight. Is what we are. Thanks for reading.
Rodrigues Avatar
December 28, 2019 at 5:57 PM
Love this! Stranger still those who do not write, read only roses are red poems...hmm, strange :)
Kinard Avatar
December 28, 2019 at 9:06 PM
Thanks Kim!
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