Prose is writing that goes right across the page. It rolls on, sentence after sentence, usually about things mundane.
But Verse is where you yourself
Decide the length of
Line.

Or stanza indeed. Some call lines “verses”. They can be very long.
Or short.
Iambic metre may be used
And other metres too.
You can write anapaests if you wish.

Yet Poetry is neither prose nor verse
As such.
It is about skyscraper forests looming large,
Trees spiking though mysterious mists.
Poetry is sunshine, filling your heart
With radiant joy.
Black nights of deep depression
Give way to a golden dawn.
The lonely
Find Love.
That’s Poetry.

Paul Butters

i always forget about all the mistakes you make,
i tolerate your swings and your constant changes
your inconsistencies and your 'slipped-outs',
and whenever you fight or hurt i'm always there,
waiting,
but this one time when i made a mistake, you
lashed out and said you couldn't trust anymore,
and that i should no longer waste your time
so now i'm left, not even a single friend, 'cause the
only one
decided i wasn't trustworthy enough
for letting out a single feeling towards you
to someone else, and now, you've gone,
just like all the rest.

i'm so sorry,
for doing all these things,
and making all these
mistakes,
and i'm so sorry
for not being there
and for not being right
and just and fair
and i'm so sorry
for being two sided
for being a hypocrite
and for being blinded
and i'm so sorry
for being me, with my
clumsy mouth and mind
and my displaced heart
and i'm so sorry

but you do not have to
forgive me.

my mind has fallen down, nearer to where my heart is, and it is shrinking, but pulsing huger, whilst my heart is no longer pumping blood and throat is now stuck with this dry lump and my tear ducts are too empty to occupy and it's all suddenly just decided to go, to leave, to place this heaviness upon the cage that no longer protects my unworking heart