A Poet's Mind
Is one of insanity.
That's just all there is to it.
Look in a book
Provided by literature class,
and what do you find?
A poem about rain
A poem about a nobody
A poem about how they feel that day.
But no matter what,
There is always hidden meaning
And a true poet will never reveal it.
Rules?
No no, there are none
But if there were but one,
it should be anonimity
of the poem's identity.
You will never get inside a poet's head.
No matter how simple the words,
How easy the rhyme,
To decode the mechanics of their brain
Is above the highest intellectual ability.
And what do you know,
I just so happen to be a poet.
I'm no William Shakespeare
Or Emily Dickinson.
But you better believe
I'm mad as a hatter
And you'll never know my poems'
Secrets...