When they talked to you.
You played them off  quickly.
When they went out of their way for you.
You treated them crude and totally rude.

Now, that they found success in life.
Now you notice.
Now you want to talk.

Pointing out things, they all about.
Now you notice their worth.
I guess certain values skipped you in church.

For wealth doesn't measure anyone.
It's seen as important to some.

To write food in the stomach
Of every hungry child.

To spell war as peace,
Metaphorize flowers into the barrel

Of every gun on Earth.
The poet has responsibilities

Beyond those of mothers,
Of kings and presidents.

I refuse to give up hope;  
This could be a poem world.

Come on, write your worst piece
Of literature.

Even misprints may give other
Meanings to a word,

Write me a green sky, blue dirt,
Trees the colour of air.

Sometimes the best poets
Have the least to say,

So keep writing, write until your
Fingers fall asleep.

Write until you havent slept
For weeks in search of that word,

That one right word,
Then rest on a notebook pillow

And dream the world right.
Write the world right.

There is no such thing as
Wasted poetry.

They say the eyes are the
     window to the soul,
        I say looking through
can make you lose control.
     Climb through to depths
            you can't imagine
        and you'll discover
   the sunshine within,
        and a love so **genuine.

It can only be stitched together
          with understanding
   The holes filled
               with trust
        And the missing pieces replaced
                    with love
            
             But a Broken Heart will always
                         remain *broken