A poem to me can be lifeless and bleak.
It fancy’s up the page, beautiful, yet sleek.
It’s beauty my shine
Or shiver up like a vine
It may touch your heart, or make you fall asleep
But it won’t ever heal the wounds that you hold so deep.
Not unless you let them all go
Dancing on the page, to and fro.
A poem does not have to rhyme
It can be like rain on a sunny day.
It’s your heart that is poetry.
It opens your eyes and teaches you how to see
So many things a poem is or is not
In deep thought, poetry is simply not
Not a way to win a girls heart
Not a way to be very smart
A poem is simply your life in verse
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