The Poet
Poetry’s blue
Like raindrops and dew
It’s sad when it’s said
Most poets are dead.
Music is blissful
To a poet it’s wistful
Has it never been cried
That an artist has lied.
A flower’s a bud
It’s soil in love
An apparatus of chortle and cheer
But has it never been said
That god must be dead
‘cause even flowers
Whittle with tears.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment