The Poet In Me
at a glance one can vaguely see
the true art of creativity
through sullen wall of complexity
I have fondly come to agree
poetry is an art form within me
I can't get away from it you see
pen, book & paper
in solemn moments of solace
we tend to sweep things under the rug
yet I have fallen in love
with words that capture the imagination
in some free verse style to know all the great while
Everyday there's a habitual display flowing through my veins
just not having a pen in hand is driving me insane
I see through portals with high lifted mast
Columns of resolution in compact
Words can express the deep hidden aura of my imagination
I may need a break on some long awaited vacation
just can't seem to get away from it's powerful display
it acts as therapy when dealing with my mental illness
we have traveled to far not to turn back now
there's no looking back when your hand's on the plow
It's a real volcanic compulsion inside
sullen brevity
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