The urge to write a poem
is like finding a butterfly
It takes time for some or
even one to be sublime

Love and loyalty
Commitment and consistency
All lost when you
don't have that urge
To be yourself
And to be true

Minds are baffled
And yet,
That one thing
that drives your imagination
is seemingly
Under reconstruction

Spirit of poetry
Be unto me
For I seek to be
sunk into memories