The Poet
Words are real, words do breathe
Feel them, smell them, live them all
Poets have a way with words
His spirit lifts them high
A gift is given upon birth
The gift to give words life
To see the world in all its truth
To feel the pain within
To cry and weep and sing with joy
All this a poet does
He sees the anger and the pain
He sees the passion raw
He laughs to see the child at play
He cries to see them die
He portrays suffering, sorrow ripe
He weeps with those who weep
He sees the lover’s eyes alight
He sees the workers toil
A poet stands and shouts the truth
Injustice he will show
The innocence of the children small
The hypocrites he’ll scorn
The poet has an unseen eye
It sees anther life
So listen well my merry men
Aye ladies lend your ear
When you do see a poet comes
Then open wide your door
He is a prophet of the world
He helps us all to see
Our duty then is plain to see
An aid to him we be
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