A poet will hear a sad song
As the rain falls on the tin
They write the tears that no one hears
In the places pain has been

A poet will hear a whisper
In the early morning breeze
They write the call of the coming Fall
As it's talking to the trees

A poet will hear a love song
In the waves that caress the sand
They write the kiss that most will miss
Or maybe don't understand

A poet will hear a teardrop
As it's falling down your cheek
They write the sound when a tear is found
For its voice is much too weak

A poet will hear most anything
That others may not hear
From the very start they listen with their heart
And this makes it loud and clear