I once knew this poet
Whose world was filled with rhyme
Said he couldn't help it
Was all that filled his mind

He always caught a catch phrase
Where there never was a doubt
That he'd whirl his words around it
And a poem would come spilling out

It must have been what he was born to do
Guess you could say he found his call
Once he grabbed that truth and set it loose
It all came natural

What he wrote was plain and simple
At times could ring profound
In the peeling of layers of the soul
Where all poetry is found

There are no two ways about it
To all this he fit the crime
This poet that I once knew
Whose world was filled with rhyme