Poets Poem by Carolyn Brunelle
Poets
Write a little poem, perhaps make it rhyme,
Count and mark all the beats in time.
Create stories of issues unexpressed,
Fears and sadnesses and feelings repressed.
Give it a title, a ‘by-line’ makes it your own.
Type it and sort it and send it along
To carry your heart into the night,
Free up your soul, and make everything right.
Such are the writers who ache and feel alone,
And need little recognition for what they have done.
The voices that can’t seem to speak in the day, are the
Poets, in their poems, who know exactly what to say.
Make it rhyme, you say measure stresses in each line tell tales of one's woes express fear and sadness Is that what poets do? Do we ache and cry for attention? Are we victims of Asperger's? Autistic until we sit and write?
I love freedome of what you have writen a short clip clap that pops and snapes I am not shure what to make of that but it sounds exact I think being able to exspress your self no matter if it is by-line or if it is some-one elese story writen throw there eye who cares about recognition...who doesn't to sides neither better then the other I love your poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 5:02:12 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A poetic commentary. Well done. Jim