Poetry is a wondering thought.
Poetry tells you something you may know or not.
It tells you what you could do or not.
It may tell you a life plot.

Poetry is just everywhere.
Poetry is a mystery like human race.
You and the creator can never pair.
You always notice a steady pace.

You get confused and have to figure it out.
You look inside too much, too hard, too less, too none.
If you don’t learn you will whine and pout.
You finally figure it’s all a pun.

You learn it’s a meaning in different words.
You may like it you may hate it.
It all comes at you like a cow herd.
You in the end find out poetry is a thought.