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Poet's Woe
Poetry is not man's creation
Words do not come from fingertips
Neither from the brain
Poems are whispered by the soul
So rarely elated
This voice inside, screaming silently
Waiting for freedom
Consistently failing to find it
Imprisoned solemn spirit
Always awake, seldom speaking
Until the writer releases it
And its beauty unfolds for the world
Given opportunity
The specter inside emerges
Tortured and vulnerable
Ready to perform its song of sorrow

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I was inspired to write this because I wanted to show to the world that poetry is not written by people, it is written by the soul. Poetry is pure emotion presented on paper.