Most poets tell the truth of life
Though they may wrap it in beauty.
It's their passion, not their purpose;
To compose is but their duty.
Poets as a rule are high on adventure
Like wondering bards or prophets today.
Embracing hearts and minds with wisdom
Casting through verse their visions at play.
Poets have their dreams and their nightmares
Of love, life, death, faith, and war.
They feel the pain and tragedy of others
Even those they've never met before.
One merit of a poet's work,
Which most people cannot deny,
They say more and in fewer words
To illuminate you and I.
Their poems are used to convey passion
By composers of both good and evil mood.
Some are hateful others loving
Sharing thoughts to be consumed as food.
They fan the flames of human compassion
With their stories of the failings of man.
Professing to follow a higher power
As they recruit whomever they can.
The wild birds sing and flowers bloom
As clouds form figures in the sky.
But only poets will write poems
That shall last long after they die.
God has always had his poets
Who he watches with love from space.
But Satan has his poets too
Who try to lead us from our grace.
Poets are the bell ringers of the soul
As they depict the past, the present and beyond.
They sound their alarm of what lies ahead
As the missteps of man live on.
By Tom Zart
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