You Are-What You Think You Are Poem by Terrance Tracy

Inspiration arrives in the midst of the minds to expel
Verses and lines that are eating the human shell
Of the conscience mind, they have lost their
Innocence for the want of fame.

What is to blame when there is no fame for verse
Or lines does the author or poet surrender his craft
To obscurity to one's own mind, is it better off left
Behind?

Actors in a world of their own, they exist only to see
Their work misunderstood and unworthy to be read.

Poets they are not nor authors shall they be
When they choose not to roam in the world of
Inspiration, O what a tragedy.

Freeform or classic, modern or abstract all are caught
In a trap, rumpled and tossed to the floor swept
Out the door perhaps they should have kept intact
That smeared easel or bits of literature which was left behind.

We are what we think we are no man can take it away
Inspiration, imagination, organization and powers that be
Are wrapped up in a pale frame but held onto with
Determination.

Terrance Tracy