Poets dream of yesterday,
so they can change tomorrow.
You find it in the words they write,
the way they share their sorrow.
Always staring at the stars,
searching for a place.
To lay a row of letters down,
to feed a readers face.
Their happiness comes not by chance,
or some measurement of will.
It cant be bought it has no price,
its not something you cant steal.
Poets understand these things,
that its words that make us feel.
Our lives can have a richer space,
with our existence in the same old place.
saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poets-understand/
