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  Feb 2015 Emma Sinclair
Analise Quinn
"Why are the poet's eyes always sad?"
A little girl asked me once.
She saw me furrow my brow,
And continued with her question.
"You see,
No matter how big you smile,
Or how hard you laugh,
There's always something there.
It's like you've found
The Great Sadness,
And you have to bear it all alone."

I nodded my head,
Fingers on my chin.

Why is it that the poet's eyes are
Always sad?

I'll answer your question
Like I did hers.

To be a poet,
You have to feel every emotion.

You have to know what it's like
To swim with the sharks
And survive,
And you have to know what it's like
To swim with the sharks
And die.

Poets have to know what it's like
To hear a baby cry for the first time,
And what it's like
To hear a mother sob,
Because her baby came quiet
And left without a fight.

We feel every
Great Happiness
And we find every
Great Sadness.

Why are poet's eyes always sad?

It's because the poet
Is always sad.

Once you find
The Great Sadness,
You can never rid yourself of it.

But if you look closely
In a poet's eyes,
You can always see
Happiness
And you can always see
Joy.

Because a poet
Has to feel every emotion,
He feels them all at once
And they can't be hidden.

In every poets' eyes,
You see happiness,
And you see sadness.
You see joy,
And you see pain.
You see love,
And you see loss.

Why are the poet's eyes always sad?

I think it is better to ask,
Why are the poet's eyes always smiling?
Emma Sinclair Feb 2015
Dance strong to your own song
While crowds gather round
Make your beat strong so others hear the sound

Make your parents proud
To have raised such a child
Who is modest and proud
Yet still a bit wild

Share your song with others
Sing them the tune
Make them understand
Sing as pretty as the month of June

Dance strong to your own song
And don't let others say no
You have control over you
That's enough for one song
Emma Sinclair Feb 2015
I am a raindrop
Formed in the clouds
In the
Eye
Of a titanic storm.
My life
Rushessssss
Past my eyes
I am
Out of control
Flailing
Falling
Plunging
To my
Death
I wish I could
stop
And take
In the
World
Around me
But I'm long gone
Falling
Too
*splat
Emma Sinclair Feb 2015
How to be life:

Step 1:  staple your heart to your shirt. Thought it may drip and leave stains accept yourself.

Step 2: tape a book to your nose. Let the words trickle down the corners of your mouth and taste them greedily.

Step 3: find God. Stand in the hospitality of the sun and sit with the dull obscurity of clouds. Accept the light and darkness.

Step 4: don't listen to your brain. Let it die with society, create a new brain that you've crafted. Fill it with words and ice cream on summer evenings.
Emma Sinclair Feb 2015
I think
We are
Afraid
Of being
Alone
With our
Minds
& what
Thoughts
They can
Produce
Emma Sinclair Feb 2015
I let my demons play today


They braided my hair
They wanted to stay
I told my mother they were no harm
Silly pets that don't mean to alarm
I took them to school
My friends ran away, they called me a fool
My demons seemed so nice tucked away in my pocket
But now they seemed better to be in a locket
I went home and hid them away
I realized without them, my life wasn't so gray
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