We poets are word dealers
if we could we'd be mind healers
However I'll just leave it
at head thrillers
or maybe slow it down to
heart and soul chillers
No if and butts about it
us poets don't have to shout it
nor in someway reroute it
If our pens were mouths some of us
would shoot from the lip
quick draw our pens from the hip
then it would be on with the trip

We deal in versing words
whether sparrows or big eagle birds
You can't treaten a true poet
with a blank page
no different than trying to keep
a lion in a cage
When he can't do his thing
out comes the rage
and you can't threatened lions
about being sage

So give me my cheese
or I'll knock you to your knees
but I might say please
You see I care about the love
but if I can't verse I might
just push and shove
until I get to my pen
to write in the den
because here I am again

opg