A poet is a butterfly that soars on wings made from words! We speak a different language, it's called poet.

Poets float above, never walk on the ground,
Poets rarely relate to life forms that surround.
We don't speak their language, we are not understood,
What they can't understand is taken for evil, not good.
A poet always sees in 3-D,
So normal folks can't see what we see.
Our realm is a fantasy world amid the clouds,
We always walk alone, even amid a crowd.
Sometimes we wear a vacant stare,
Our bodies are present, but our minds aren't there.
There are no boudaries or limits to us,
Everything is important, if folks don't see it, we are known to fuss.
Our minds continually go walk about,
So to get our attention, folks are known to shout!
We get annoyed, bein brought down,
What is so great about walking on the ground?
We care not if folks think us to be crazy,
For our minds are in a field loaded with daisies!
We are not insane, we are poets,
We are quite incredible, but sadly noboby knows it!