Blessed Gift

A poet is one who journeys to war torn ground
Festering in anguish
He searches until he finds a rough stone
Tenderly, he cleans and polishes it
And it becomes a shining gem
For a poet find beauty in everything
Even the sad things
Few are born with the gift of poetry etched in their mind
They yoke the worlds pain upon their shoulders
And it becomes their pain
So to the worlds joy is theirs
The ability to care transforms
Into a poem of breath taking beauty
No one whas died for cause dies in vain
For the poet pens the song of their life
So long as ink remains on page
They are not forgotten
The poet keeps them alive in their heart
And through verse, the heart of the world
The poet weeps
And the people raise their voice in unison
What a blessed gift I have!