"HE IS THE POEM"by Esther Del Carmen Drolick
He was The Poem.
A piece of work I admired afar.
254 days and I analyzed each part.
Each line grew my interest in its rollercoaster plot.
Each line I grew closer to the author of this art.
His being provoked a Renaissance within me.
An awakening of music and thoughts to roam freely.
To be able to trust and love again was an abstract theory
Which he fulfilled with his intricate words and unbalanced rhyme scheme.
The string of absence had stolen my heart before
When my father climbed the golden stairs from bloodied grass floors.
From then I forged wall after wall in front of my doors,
Until The Poem shook them down and reached through my thorns.
He is The Poem for my vacant heart.
He is The Poem, I, his chaser.
He is The Poem, my love, God's art.
He is The Poem not written on paper.