The Poet

Everyone is a poet
how many verses do we think of and we do not write
lost emotions
lost feelings.

We never write them and how difficult to remember …

But who finds the time to write
to remember
that is your poet.
They are no better than you are
they too have words that often get lost before morning comes
before a pencil and paper is found
if the key words are not jotted
on a handy napkin, on a greasy palm, hand or wrist.
So he that writes becomes a poet
because you can read him and read him.

But your thoughts were just as worthy as the ones written down.
May they reflect your long lost verses
may they keep your soul composing
because your thoughts are out there and when we are able
we pluck them from our Cosmo
for you to read
for me to be sad about.

A poet’s life is the sadness of the universe
a defect born of shyness
continuing guerrilla warfare
trying to speak of love, respect and often
impossible dreams of life.
Goals never achieved that others might achieve
of truth
of loneliness
of the woman you love but cannot live with.

COPYRIGHT Daniel Nicastro Toronto October 2000