The Art of Poetry

On hearts that pain has left its mark
There seems to be release
Into the words that form from hurt
And called the Art of Poetry.

Into the vestige of the mind
Where crumbled thoughts evoke
Not one recalled but with a tear
That memories provoked.

To feel the drop of bitter wine
That once was sweet and rare
Could only bring a shudder
Where once true love was shared.

To learn the perils that you face
When your heart is opened wide
And in an instant its gone away
You'll need a place to hide.

So in the words of poetry
You let your soul escape
As your heart flows freely
Upon the empty page.