Poets

Poets not only live life. Poets breath life, the ugly and beauty of life we recite. The long glowing beauty of the day, and the sparkling lights. Sprinkled upon the dark canvas of the night. We are part of the flame.  We are the spark of the fire, the dried twigs that ignite. We are the birds of air, the path and the flight. The pain and the joy of the world, the struggle the fight. We are the expression of right  and wrong, the voice of the weak, the voice of the strong.  We are the joy, and the pain and the tears of the song. We are the smoke in the air, the hit from the bong.  We are the motion of life, we are the keep, in keep moving on.  We are the sound of the thunder, the wetness of rain. The pickers of the harvest, the jingle of chains. We are the smoke of glass, the cloth and the stain   We are love pain, passivity and aggression. And our whole lives we live a life of expression. If now you know what a poet is, you have learned a poetical lesson.