Blonde in a red Corvette, free as a bird
Me, just a child, staring at her
Remember thinking, that's where I'm gonna be
In a red Corvette, at 33
No kids, no baggage, not even a dog
Stomp on the gas, and simply take off
No limits, no signs, just a juicy sunset
The wind in my hair, not an ounce of regret
She never saw me, but I'll never forget
The phoenix who flew past me, in a red Corvette

To me, poetry isn't just about rhyming, or haikus, or proper grammar or whatever rules you want to apply to it.
Poetry is expressing your feelings in however you feel fit.
Reread that.
Poetry is expressing your feelings.
Getting things off your chest.
So don't ever let someone tell you your poetry isn't good.
Because if it came from the heart,
it is more than amazing.

You were always my cardinal
I, a mourning dove
Wandering eternal
Not convinced of love
You clung to birch alone all winter
while I chased the Sun above
The wind brought us back together
Cling forever to me my love