Do you ever think of verses,
While you're brushing your teeth?
Then repeat them inside your head,
As if you're counting sheep?
You rush into your room,
And scribble the lines down.
Do you?
I do.

Do you ever think of things to say,
Not caring if it wants to be heard?
You just get some thoughts together.
Then you pick at some of the words.
And In this wonderful world,
You have the choice to be silent,
While shouting out your emotions.
You don't have to like talking.
You just write things down.
Poetry it becomes.
Soulfully yours and meaningful to more than one.

The poems might just come to you.
Or you might have to think.
But however you come up with it,
You'll be making beauty.
You'll be an artist in control.

Wouldn't we all love to know,
That through this we have power.
The ability to gather thoughts,
And turn them into flowing poems.
That our words can be effective.
That they don't just comfort us.
If we knew they made others feel things,
Relate or understand.
Well that would be fantastic.
That's what we all want to hear.
To be told someone's enjoyed it,
Or that it made them shed a tear.
Knowing that someone understood.
That someone's complimenting how you use words.
It's an amazing feeling.
Especially when poetry's what your so close to.
You owe it all the world.
So someone's compliment,
Would brighten up your days.

If you are a poet,
Then you might understand this.
But we are all different.
We understand different things.
What one could write,
Others may not be able to read.