What passion drives the poet
to lay down prose and verse
To ponder all the where’s and why’s
of this our own minds universe
What makes us tick is tossed about
as though they know all the answers
Yet all the while their insecurities
grow within the poet like a cancer
What passion drives the poet
Is not something you can explain
It has to be greedily experienced
You have to feel what they retain
from what life has thrown at them
their vision of the world they live
Just know when you read from a poet
With their words, a part of them they give
