Groping for the Light

Fighters - fight, and Lovers - love, but a poet is

Naive.

To find beauty in the wreckage, where:

Getting hit means, at least you’re not forgotten.

Falling down? Just weightless and unburdened.

Knocked out? There’s no better time to dream.

It’s a search for meaning in a world where:

Pain is synonyms with creation.

Ostracized, and paralyzed, purely for your

Entertainment.

That you might relish in someone else’s misery.

You see the talent, taste the words beyond, but:

Yesterday brought sorrow, tomorrow just the same,

so that you might know me by another name:

The Poet

For what is a poet, but someone with more hope than sense?