THE CONNECTION

 

Poets connect in special ways,

Perhaps because of bygone days,

So many suffered pain and strife,

And know that heartache comes with life.

Their minds run on a wayward track,

And many know the color black,

But when they write in rainbow hues,

Magnificence comes through their muse.

Some poets' thoughts a little weird,

They pen with darkness that is feared,

Perhaps they bring out to the light,

What others think deep in the night?

They paint the world for all to see,

And with their words, don’t all agree,

But wake the mind, though, none the less,

For few of them, their thoughts suppress.

Poets connect in many ways,

And understand each one's malaise,

We travel down a poet’s road,

And seem programmed with common code.

And what is that you all may say,

Well enter here and read someday,

And you will find a common thread,

That runs within a poet’s head.

Are poet’s crazy… just plain nuts?

Some seen exposed with bleeding guts,

Or filled with love that overflows’

To cover page with gushy prose.

In metaphors, we often write,

Enter our minds, we here invite.

Once more I’ll say in this short phrase,

Poets connect in special ways.