'Me' The Poet Poem by Karabo Ramasodi

A poets first words whether; a cry of anguish, or a scream of anger, the gentle pulse of a love stricken heart, or eerie silence of a heart left in tatters; remain an angels last thought, Godly or Evils seductive whispers

A poets first thoughts whether; of pain or regretful sorrow, joy or excitable confusion; remain unique, creative and unchallenged. Flaunting the spectacular difference that exists within the rarest of persons

A poets hands though seemingly ordinary, prove to be a weapon greater than that contained in even the most powerful army's, like a sniper with precision accuracy, a poets hand may be credited with a poets visual execution

A poet
A person
A portal for expression
Its from my poetic mind
That spawns these poetic lines
And through these hands that bring them to light

That these emotions have faces
And seen through your minds senses
To relate with your own experience
Placing comfort through empathy
Removing that loneliness and false sympathy
And no reason for self-pity.

Its through a poet
One may feel at ease
As a poet pours theirs souls out
For that momentary peace