poetry

 
jilted thoughts scream for attention
in the hall of ideas they make themselves known
clamoring to be written
mocking if you don't write it someone else will

so I take my muse very seriously
kooky or not I pick up my pen
writing what comes bursting forth
sometimes channeling the immortal
other times nothing much but I wait and see
amazed, others are on my wavelength
it's a beautiful connection us poets share

speaking a language only we know
metaphors deciphered each with a different interpretation
giving even the writer themselves new perspective
it is a unique gift not to squander

sometimes I worry if I seem self important
I wonder why I write many times personal things
until I reach a soul and I know I did the right thing