Jewels Poem by Cynthia Buhain-baello

A pen that has been dipped in mud
Writes poems that loses meaning
Its message falls into a thud
A sad demise to the art of writing.

Like jewels that are badly stained
Smutty words abort its value,
Whatever beauty has been gained
Dissolves in verses that fall through.

A poem need not have verbal dirt
To catch a few hollow attention
Revealing true poetic worth
Gives it that genuine valuation.

A writer's poems are life jewels
Precious gems in verses of gold,
Of great value when written well-
Such a blessing to behold.







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'Every man's work is always a portrait of himself.'