They really don't like
what you write.
The words cause them
to want too, fight.
So they leave a
tied tongue review,
Thinking you have no clue.
Poets might write anything,
before they write nothing.

I'll write to rhyme,
then hope my rhythm sublime.
I'll write to express,
don't care about word dress.
I'll write because I write,
I pay for this poetic site.
Mostly I write for fun,
after a hard day is done.

I do not write to please,
nor for my words to tease.
I try not to write to confront,
but I will perform the stunt.
Some poets express head,
many figure this when they read.
Pain is so dominant,
it may express out predominant.
The power of love grips,
to all mostly it trips.
Life at times is an itch,
can cause any poet to twitch.

We all use symbolism,
many times metaphor,
don't want to cause a cataclysm.

"Worrying is for the birds,"
All my life I've heard these words.
I don't know if birds worry,
seems like they don't.
Seems like none of
the animals worry.
Squirrels end up flat on the road,
from a big car load.
The chicken, pig and cow,
end up human chow.
Maybe they should worry,
and disappear in a hurry.

Maybe this and maybe that,
kick out the hog,
bring in the rat.
A tied tongue review,
I get the clue!

G