The sun glows
Shedding its heat upon us low
The wind blows
Pacifying the heat; chilling my soul
I got a' plenty to think
My story, things I must quit
A lot of balls and wit
Must I have to uplift...
Amazing it is
How small things
Makes a man indeed.
I know not why I write
But I tell you, it lessens my plight
Comforts me in fright
And I drown in the ink, soaring upon the paper; indeed I take flight.
Am I a poet?
I'm thinking not yet
Its above the prowess
Composing without sweat
Painting life's photos in many a few words.
I am just another tom
Wanting from society some
Respect for being how I'm born
And it is what it is; yes that is all.