My Soul on Paper
I can only speak for myself
On what poetry means it me
It is a chance to let my heart bleed out
A chance to let my thoughts take wing
I am not a master poet
I never claimed to be
My poems will never rank with Poe or Frost
But they work just fine for me
Poetry gives my tears a place to go
It gives my joy a form to take
It helps me quiet down my mind
Vents my anger so it does not wake
It is the channel through which I can speak
It’s a way I convey who I am
I can speak the most eloquent of languages
Or utter the simplest of “Sam I ams”
I won’t go into the record books
Don’t expect to sell a single copy
But my poetry is my soul on paper
And that works just fine for me