To Write a Thousand Po’ems and Keep One

 
 
The passion that l've had became an art,
And ever since the po’em l first penned
About a teenage love that broke my heart,
My lovers have been poets, as I tend.
 
For some, they had retired from a curse,
From lack of inspiration, dusk to dawn.
But felt the fi’re once they read my verse;
And this in honor of a writer’s swan.
 
A thousand have l written over time,
About each one l've let into my bed.
A staple of a passion’s flow and rhyme,
All through a love’s relation am I lead.
 
To know the sun sets always in the West.
From art of common air are legions spun.
And in the midst of passion, I invest
To write a thousand po’ems and keep one.
 
 
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