The Rise of a Fallen Poet

Then a fallen poet finally woke This time it was never a joke. His pen was now filled with writing magic As it constructed lines with logic. Now, he wrote about things most dear And he wrote without any fear. He wrote poetry about no review But composed to give a point of view. His words gave one a choice For he gave the ignored a voice. Images and similes flowed around his mind And he used them to open the eyes of the blind. His potent weapon, language, was his spear Which he used to make one lend an ear. He avoided any language that is foul But wrote to capture any soul. He wrote and aimed not to tease But wrote to put people at ease. This time poetry was his platform To impart his treasured wisdom. Inspired by Skat A( The fallen poet)