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A piece of you
Reflecting back
The bitter words in your mouth
Too raw to speak
A poet is
Someone in pain
And someone in love
Someone who looks at the world
Through a kaleidoscope
Who takes a magnifying glass to each
And every
Word you say
And lets them imprint on their heart
A poet is
A star gazer
A dreamer
A chaser of
The improbable
But hopes anyway
A poet is
Tissue paper skin
A heart of glass
And a soul of titanium

A poet is
A sharp tongue
And a gentle kiss
She is a sob
He is a sigh
A poet is
The sun at midnight
Bright and
Burning
Hot
Alive
But cloaked in a darkness
They cannot shake
The brightest day
And the darkest night
A poet is
The human experience
A paradox
An oxymoron
So complicatedly
Simple

A poet is
A lover
Who refuses
To stop wearing their heart on their sleeve
No matter how much it bleeds
But rolls them up
So you can’t see
The blood stains


A poet
Is Poetry
Shena Robertson Oct 2014
What’s this lonely soul to do
when the moon is such a great sight
and only my eyes are here to witness?

And how am I to feel when the distance becomes not the abyss that separates me and the moon
but the extensive vastness that separates you and I?
The wolf is my favorite animal for many reasons. One being the emotional and social similarites between me and them.
Shena Robertson Oct 2014
sometimes I cry 

it just happens

I don’t know why

sometimes I cry

and by sometimes I mean often.

— The End —