Poet

What is a poet but a tortured soul?

Who takes words and letters and turns them into gold,

Wraps them in meaning and paints a picture in your mind,

Is there any truer form of art?

Than taking the blood of your soul and writing it on the walls,

So that everyone will know,

No matter what the feeling, some one has been there before,

And words do flow like fire from the minds of the inspired,

Isn’t it amazing how…

One can take mere words and weave them into…

Beauty, pain, love or hate,

And suddenly they take on movement as they lie upon the page,

We can take you to…

The heights of happiness or the depths of despair and rage,

What is a poet?

If not a magician,

A conductor of the words of the heart,

What is a poet?

If not…a living, breathing work of art.