He looked up at the night sky
Saw the stars and wondered why
And of these wonders he did write
For poets have the second sight

Her love had left, she now was free
Began getting lost  in reverie
And of these memories she did write
Poets don't get much sleep at night

Sometimes  poets lose sight of the days
That tend to go by in a haphazard haze
For their  minds are always on rhyme
Meter and verse make them forget time

He looked at the empty bed missing her form
Thinking of the quarrel that caused a storm
Of these woeful happenings he had to write
For poets can't help but share their plight

It's one way society learns to cope
Sharing the drama of life, it gives hope
Of sages and poets that have gone before us
Let's give thanks to them, (and the Thesaurus!;-)

etw