We Poets Are Slightly Insane

We Poets Are Slightly Insane We're loose power lines in an angry storm. Dangerous because we state truths that mere mortals don't want to hear. They color inside the lines and live within the box. They seek safety. At times I envy them. I refuse to live in a black and white world. Drag my crayons wildly on the paper and draw what others can only entertain in their dreams. We'll gather in alleys and graffiti our hearts.