How does one know if they are a true poet or merely a lost soul with pen and paper unscrambling their emotions.  Flying high in a cloud of words with definition,  picking and choosing the ripest  like a grape from the vine, reaching into the depths of my heart with the blood of my conviction dripping words on my tablet describing my visions of  life. Yet still the question rains like thunder crashing and lightning striking, be it a fool destined to become a true poet or a poet with eyes that are blind. Knowing the words to be written because they embrace me like a mother does a new born child , but searching for description as to what  makes a poet in a true poets eyes.?

perhaps
we always drift together
because our hearts
know more
than our minds

s.s

you look so lovely
when you lie
keep saying you love me
till the day i die

s.s

You grow flowers in my heart,
You draw lights in my dark.

You stopped the rain that is falling,
You brought sun in my sky.

You calmed the storm in me,
The lightning they screamed.

And whisper out the rainbow,
I didn't know I could be.

I'd be lying if I said I never saw this coming.
I did, I just didn't think it'd get to this point,
that we'd get to this point.

But here I am and there you are.
You see, the two of us aren't even a "we" anymore,
because no combination of you and I
will ever again form that connection,
not after what you did.

I'm truly sorry things had to happen this way,
but I'm not sorry I ever loved you,
because that's not something I'd want to forget.
And I don't think you should forget it either.

I'm sorry you had to make the decision you did,
but I'm not sorry that by the time you'd made up your mind,
I'd already made up mine.

I'm sorry you acted on your feelings
before you knew what they truly were,
but I'm not sorry for that night
and the way we felt about each other.

And lastly, I'm sorry you hurt me.

And I hope that someday,
you're strong enough to admit
that you're sorry too.