Poem Purge
I purge my soul of things only I know.
It helps me see what can truly be,
Not just a dream of you and me.
When my fingers hit the keys
It lights a fire in me.
I set off on a rant
Of rhyme and chant
Oh, what good will it be
If it is only read by me?
Yet what good will it do
If it is only read by you?
At least I put it down
Then I’ll no longer drown
In the thoughts in my head
As I hear it be read
Like the beauty of a dancer
I see the answer
Is this an omen?
No, but it is still my poem.
This poem is about:
Me