Poetry

Poetry is told from within,
never clear to begin,
it silently paints a pic,
not so visible for all to nick,
I often think will it bring a tear,
maybe out of anger or a inner fear,
will it bring a comforting smile,
more than once in a while,
will it leave you scratching your head,
or thinking bout things tucked up in bed,
will it reel you in,
without you even relising,
is it a fact or maybe even fiction,
your the only one that holds that prediction