the poet
the poet can't find the words to use,
because this poet has no muse.
this poem sounds so empty,
because the poet is in misery.
the poet wants what she can't have,
it's something the poet dearly love.
it's what the poet's heart is seeking,
but now the poet's heart is breaking.
the poet keeps looking for words that rhyme,
and now she is running out of time.
does her poetry heal her pain?
can these words keep her sane?
can this poem bring back the past?
or would she continue wearing a mask?
to hide her pain from everyone.
to hide her soul until she's gone.
then someone made the poet smile,
something she hasn't done in awhile.
by melting her heart that's tough,
simply by making the poet laugh.
the poet's words became her art,
because someone has captured her heart.
the poet's words are no longer sad,
because someone is making her glad.
the poet continues on writing,
her heart is no longer bleeding.
her words are now filled with beauty,
her muse is making her happy.
the words in this poem is true,
you made me happy by being you.
and i want the world to see,
you bring out the poet in me.
