The Love of Poetry

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Many of us pretend to be happy,
When deep inside its really burning,
Distrust, deceit, deception,
As the world keeps turning.

Therefore, we write,
A tale, a prayer, a song,
To help us through that lonely night,
We must stay strong.

The funny thing is, we can write about anything,
From a deep desire to a hidden thought,
A mystical powerful experience,
Which cannot be bought.

Its a gift to be given to others and yourself,
The search for beauty and endless truth,
A soul's adventure into the human mind,
Hidden meanings from your early youth.

Some of us write for no reason,
So our works of art can draw or repel,
They don't even have to rhyme,
As we put our reader under our magic spell.

Let it be love,
Let it be hate,
Let it be dreams,
We create.

So the next time you read a poem,
Think about us, the poets,
We will never look back at what we wrote,
So please comment and vote.
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