Poetic License

Pardon my unique manner of expressions;
my words seem a form of contrivance;
sometimes, to convey personal impressions;
I take advantage of poetic license.

It’s not that we poets are permitted to lie;
it’s rather that we live in thin air;
I intentionally write, what makes you cry;
my words may take you anywhere.

In attempts to prompt others to think;
my thoughts, often seem unique;
don’t allow them to lead you to drink;
become gentle in every critique.

Poets are giving a piece of their mind;
where wisdom is often hidden;
often leaving the conventional behind;
expressing ideas, forbidden.

My words, expressed; are not a decree;
merely thoughts to make you think;
it matters not; whether others agree;
it’s that logic, is becoming extinct.

Many have fallen prey to a siren song;
believing whatever their told;
not stopping to think; they just go along;
sheep; huddled in the fold.

It matters little; what you may think;
it only matters; that you do;
the world is tottering on tyranny’s brink;
and one of its sheep may be you.

Monty 9.8.25. # 2,952