Poets as a rule are high on adventure Like wondering bards or prophets today. Embracing hearts and minds with wisdom Casting through verse their visions at play.
Poets have their dreams and their nightmares Of love, life, death, faith and war. They feel the pain and tragedy of others Even those they’ve never met before.
They fan the flames of human compassion With their stories of the failings of man. Professing to follow a higher power As they recruit whomever they can.
Poets are the bell ringers of the soul As they depict the past, the present and beyond. They sound their alarm of what lies ahead As the missteps of man live on.