.
How deep will he go
inside of his self?
Will he apprehend the poet-
or set him high on the shelf?
When given the chance
he tries and he tries
to release his words
like wild butterflies.
A prisoner in chains,
yet; parchment bound.
He’s a book full of sonnets-
He’s lost and he’s found.
He’s an unwhispered treasure
inside of a book.
He’ll come up to play
if you drop him the hook.
When given the key,
my eyes never show it-
because you are the door,
and I’m just the poet.