Here's To The Poets! Poem by david lessard

The poet is a writer,
for want of better things to do-
He/she composes rhymes and prose,
and then sends them on to you.
You may like it, or you may not,
it really doesn't matter-
It's not you or me that sparks
him or her,
it's not him or her
the poet flatters.

It's the self, the soul, the heart,
of every word of pen-
The emotions, the joy, the tragedy,
of things that may have been;
It's the tears, the laughter and
the bitter struggles,
the mending of the mind,
that erases all the troubles.

To give the world his/her
pain or joy,
The expression of
a tortured brain -
The words that must be uttered,
lest they burst,
Like dark clouds
of pent-up rain.

It's a burden lifted gently,
or a thing of hell-bent fury -
It's a release of ugly dreams,
sent into the world unburied.

Don't take them to the grave,
don't hide them 'neath the rug;
Give your voice to heaven,
and give yourself a hug.

Yes, here's to all the poets,
Male, female, young or old,
Sing out your songs loudly,
and with your thoughts, be bold!