When people ask
“What kind of poet are you?”
I often reply
A sad one
And not inherently
Because I always am
But because sometimes
The sadness is easiest
To get lost in
And I often find myself
Needing to be lost

This life I was given
Has caused me nothing
But sorrow and grief
And that’s why I can’t
Possibly wrap my mind
Around the fact
That life is a beautiful thing
When nothing beautiful
Ever happens to me

Her beauty can be compared
To that of
A modern renaissance piece
That takes a truly tasteful eye
To appreciate
She is and of
Alluring captivity
And all the while
I stand in awe
Of her monumentality

I knew of a place
Where the night met day
And the stars danced freely
Under a warm sunshine ray

Where the cold and the warmth
Would perfectly intertwine
In a hypnotic rhythm
Catapulted through time

Where dark and light
Could both peacefully exist
Just beyond the horizon
In an altered state of bliss

I knew of a place
Where the night met day
Until a time came
When it was no longer that way