You are a rusted soul
Spitting sweat and ice cold fire
Queen, king, queer dear of contradiction
Reality is a fiction
Because you are ethereal

For those who don't know
You are special
A work of strange abstract art
Dark angles of a dangerous heart
That finds the purity
Of who you are
Crossing through to
Who you will and want to be
You are the poet

The poet yearns to live free
Flowing in full fields
Yielding flocks of
Daisies, marigolds
Violets, and roses
Till all noses
Explode
From sheer delight

The poet yearns to love deep
And see the secret hope reciprocated
The hunting heart hurt and relocated
Burnt like a blown out building
Decimated leaving only enough room for
One spark of hope

The poet yearns to be seen
To be heard and understood
Have the world comprehend
His being
Soul dislocated but invigorated
With all that he has created