…isn’t whether or not you know,
the fancy words of prose,
but of every other word…
and how they make you feel.
‘Tis not a test of vocab,
but of sincerity, something that
means something…to you,
and your life…however slight.
To grade a Poet is to confine his soul,
into that which scholars deem –
appropriate, and with merit. Having
no concept of the life that leads the Poet.
I, the Poet, look forward to a read,
of my words painted upon pulp, perhaps a
decade past, and to the wonderment,
of a battle engaged so many years ago.