Veracity through verbosity 

Through the cat leaps we litsen 

How if you dangle your clause a moment can glitsen

With skinny fist and stubbed led we pull these words 

Defiant from our heads oh the shoudler of giant 

Rike, Rumi, Raine 

In these shoes I have lain and been led. 

Angelou Akhmaudina, whose lips parted the seas who sees

These intricacies and that poetry is not a passion

But a NEED.

Poetry heals and it steals the souls of those who think they are unwanted

With words of sympathy and passion we lay there haunted

A beauty to hold the pencil as we write and cry and scream the words

Poetry, a need, heals the heart and the damaged cords 

A soft lullaby and i no longer cry in anguish but in joy, I have found my light

Poetry is not a passion

But a NEED.