Was it the ability to put words on lines?
Was it the ability to perceive the worlds **** clearly?
Was it the ability to rhyme?
What made us poets?
What made us the dying breed
Of well recognized literary professionals?
What the hell happened to the days of comedy
Perhaps a simple tragedy?
It seems love has grasped out hands
Forced us to write cliches
Not looking at the bigger picture

Nobody knows what made us poets

We weren't born this way
I'm nothing like Lady Gaga
What happened to us
That made us put pen or pencil to paper
And pour our emotions out
Trusting the world with our deepest secrets
Allowing them to peek behind closed doors
Allowing them a first hand look
At the scars that paper cuts gave us
What made us poets?
What made us all so insane
We are no longer classified as insane
But completely ******
For abilities almost unnatural