The Poet In Me

Only when you have to leave,
And my heart begins to grieve,
Is when I write my best verse,
When you go it's like a curse,
'Cause on that sad and lonely day,
The poet in me comes out to play,
And he writes what comes to mind,
Whatever words that he may find,
He bares my thoughts I hold inside,
And feelings that I try to hide,
And let's them out for the world to see,
My mind is opened and set free,
But it all soon fades away,
And won't return until the day,
That from me, again, you must depart,
And call the poet from deep in my heart,
To write out his rhyme as the ink flows,
And discover the things that only he knows

HOME