We come here every evening
Circle up our chairs
Like cowboys with their wagons
To explain the world we see out there

Our very words keep us on the outer edge
Always running through our minds
What cure it is we're looking for
Hoping that cure we never find

Yes, this is Poets Anonymous
We exclaim it one by one
Hi, my name is "      " and I'm a poet
On a journey that's never done

Searching for that masterpiece
That eludes us all the same way
It's that one thing that keeps us digging deep
Every single minute of every single day

It's hidden in this pen somewhere
We're all sure of that fact
A lucky few have found it once
And go to no lengths to get it back

So here we huddle in our circle
All with the same curse that is at play
Poets Anonymous is for all of us
Where a poets suffering is our fate

Will you be the ears?
The ears to my words.

Will you be the eyes?
The eyes to my falls.

Will you be the shoulder?
To which I depend on.

Will you be the listener?
And hear my calls.