On many days

I phrase life in new ways

But it doesn’t mean a thing

Unless I get to the base

If I don’t like my thoughts

Because they are sad to me

I try to be creative and constructive

It leads me

this way

through the daily maze

Problem solved

Poetry is a passion

*

But better protect

Many people reject

Poetry

**

So many days

I chase someone’s praise

But it doesn’t mean a thing

Unless my work is aced

Some don’t like my thoughts

Because they clash for them

They may seem frivolous and repulsive

It keeps me busy

And my interest stays

Sorry if that seems self-indulgent

*

I have to reflect

I hope they don’t reject

Poetry

**

Don’t tell me what the rules are

Or take these words

Out of context

Best to take them

with a grain of salt

That’s just being honest

I can dispense it

No need for apprehension

against my language

Of blood, sweat and tears

It’s not my fault

it’s offensive to your senses

The iron between us lasts

All the years

**

With many days

I raise hell for this place

But it doesn’t mean a thing

Unless it’s all in good taste

If you don’t like my thoughts

Because they seem wrong for us

I argue for potential that’s productive

It brings me

Today

And all time and space

*

For all involved

Poetry is a passion

***