The Mind of A Poet

“I am a poet”

This must mean I’m a savant of moods, and a wordsmith by craft
Though true, these are after effects-
Understanding they lack

See a poet thinks deeply, and feels deeper

I wouldn’t wish a poetic mind on my worst enemy

For the poet sees the beauty like none others do
But also the poet taste the misery like none others too

A poet can smell the rot of emptiness
The spots less admired, they admire even more

A poet feels what cannot be felt
And hears what cannot be helped... but still they try

For to be alive and to die they know to well
A poets mind is a blissful boisterous, precarious hell