A poet

What is a poet?

A writer of dreams?

A speaker of lies?

A heart of many feelings

Pouring out onto paper?

It’s all of these things

A poet tells it all

Show this world

In its most pure form

In its most beautiful form

But in showing it all

Showing its flaws is inevitable

Its blistering skin

The raging lice tearing through its scalp

Its dark and eldritch sights for all a eye to see

Poets see it all

And tell more than their eyes could see

A poet hears it all

And yells out louder than any cry

Piercing the most stone faced ears.

In the end, people already knew it all

They saw and heard everything a poet does

The only thing that makes the poet different

Is how they show the world

In their own special lenses