The Poet Poem by Weldon Davis

I see you late night pen in hand
Those thoughts that persist
Those no one understands

You think maybe if I write them down
Recite them like I mean it
They'll take me at face value
For what I am
A poet
A genius

To all those who write
There is a simple joy
Only a few of us know it
Cause really
Who would pretend to be a poet?

A poet is a tormented soul
Our words are wind
Away we go
Flying to new heights
Wrong'n all these rights
Ah...Such a perilous task

Stay'n awake
Unable to shake
New concepts to write

In case you ever wonder
I see you over yonder
Throwing away rough drafts
Crossing out lines
Becoming one with the world
Free'n a thousand minds
With exquisite prose
Only the cultured could digest

Keep writing
The best is yet to come
Your words rise up like the sun
-And-
Never fall upon deaf ears

Put your emotions to the paper
Show the true love there
In the words
Of a poet