From The Mind Of A Poet

The mind of a poet, is an open book;
exposing truths, a soul would hide;
allowing, everyone to take a good look;
at the deceptions, lying hidden, inside.

All poetry is a form of elite mystery;
tho often melancholy and somber;
restructuring accounts of past history;
causing our thoughts to wander.

Most poets are the purveyors of truth;
so far as they understand it;
many of us tend to become aloof;
our circumstances demand it.

Many poets are commoners, at large;
seeking a different understanding;
few will accept commoners, in charge;
their uniqueness can be demanding.

Thoughts of most poets are empty pages;
awaiting the words we will write;
we are the fools; who think we’re sages;
attempting to shed some light.

Most poets dream of an empty canvas;
upon which we paint our reality;
our words try to capture God’s grandness;
conveying what we think; not see.

Poems are merely illustrations of dreams;
thoughts from the realm above;
attempting to capture, what it all means;
our words are poems of love.

Monty 12/1/24. # 2,481