Poet Soul


Human; my thoughts are lost in a void of too many voices

My soul’s deepest cry is clouded by a child’s tantrum

I am a mute in a world built upon thunderous noises

As a human, I’m slowly dispelling into oblivion

Things I’ve pondered for days will accompany me to my grave

For all the world knows, I am dumb – or just rather numb


But as a poet, I am a bellowing lion untamed

I can run forever alongside the champions of old

In assurance that someone will hear my words, and know my name

As a poet, I am dashingly, unabashedly bold

Taking my battle cry against evanescence all alone

Each utterance resonating after my body’s gone cold

I’m a dancer, a stoic queen, a river, a tree, or a stone

I can design my own world, I can even redesign me

I’ve millions of talents that I now have a chance to hone

I can become the detective, or render myself the thief

To switch perspectives, to put myself in the criminal’s shoes

Then burn my prints and evidence, get up from the desk and leave


But my poet soul matures in me, I’ve found strength anew

While my human self disappears midst the boisterous and loud

Silent in the throng of voices, audacity drives me through

And my poet soul puts me on pedestals above the crowd 


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