What defines a poet?
Is it a natural talent
Or an acquired taste?
Is it a mere pastime
Or is our very existence
Dependent on the art?
Maybe it's the calling
For those of us who
Discover ourselves by
Bridging the gap
Between the tangible
And the subconscious
Maybe it’s the outlet
For those of us who
Are courageous enough
To display our wounds
But only when layered
Beneath abstraction
Maybe it’s the biography
Of those of us who
Rather say what we feel
Without actually saying it
And blame the muse
For the fiction created
What defines a poet?
There is no absolute
Truth
I suppose
The only truth I know
Is a weeping pen
Dries my tears
