Why Poetry?

the problem with poetry
it needs feeding
slices of life
how to extract it
without bleeding
beads of sweat
occasionally questioning
why do you do this?
is it madness
no it’s the feeling
an emotion
“let me out, before i burst”
the hurt is too much
lies or truth
we observe, confess and rejoice
we willingly cry
we are actors in
black and white
companions unto the breach
poetry is our blood, sweat and tears
made of moments
in slices of years

By Paolo Michell

About pmisteil

Hi, my name is Paul though I write under other names like, Thatcher and Paolo, I love literature, art and architecture their passion and drama....the contradictions. The notion of Truth-who is the person behind the mask? Or does it matter! I like long walks and longer conversations over cappuccinos in a cafe with atmosphere and the rest is a journey!
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