Scalpel Please Poem by Christian Connor Schwantes

You can try to write song
Try to write a rap, but none of that counts
It's what's said in the aftermath
The bomb doesn't have purpose till it explodes
Like science without frogs, dissecting a song
The beauty that's created when the right words come out
Is not planned like chess masters making the other clock out
It's like a bee buzzin, or buds blooming
Simple as a kid's toothless smile
Or lovers who haven't kissed in a while