Poets are an interesting bunch, All half mad at least. I say I love poetry When the words tear me up inside, Stealing every breath. I say it soothes me Even as it burns me, Begging to be released. "We all know we're crazy," I say. "But we choose this life Because we can't live without the fever dreams Or syllables controlling our every move." The non-poet stares at me, Uncomprehending.