Drift away to a faraway place,

In motion without moving,

Our eyes direct we stare,

Away to yesterday,

Lost we are in soul and body,

But a place to venture to,

We have entered,

A land where kingdoms are made, where a queen's heart is pure,

Wondering in gleam,

Stuck in contemplation,

To strike a graze and be amazed, the singing of the birds,

As the early sun lights the air,

A soft melody,

Like a symphony is orchestrated, The harmonious sound of strings, Winds and percussions attract us, To places we are pleased to forego, To the experiences we live for, Which we alone can use,

A poet's heart is as strong as his mind,

As artistic as we are learners,

And lovers all the same,

It is unrealistic that we dwell in the space of modern man,

We must stay in a place the body can't go.

To gleam upon,

To dream upon,

The next thing to write,

The next thing to recite,

The next thing that inspires,

A poet's desire,

To touch the mind, body, and soul, of all they encounter,

To deliver a gift that will last,

Beyond the years,

That helps press forward,

Waves of words that saturate,

The ears of poets,

Words of indicative verses are used,

That portray the melodies,

As strangers we meet and share,

These wonderful stories,

What seems to appear?

When we were stuck in contempt, be it that it that of love,

Or to be loved,

Be it that of faith,

To the uninspired ones,

As a muse we must remain a sauce, of flavorful inspiration,

For those minds that are set in slumber,

We place our pens to the paper,

We lend our voice to speech,

We look deep inside,

And outwardly to seek,

The longing to find the proper words,

That draw us closer to a world of time beyond that of which we see,

We use prose and metaphors,

To paint pictures as beautiful as a goddess,

A poet's verse sketches features at length,

Which are powerful like emotions we give names to our experiences, we are born to a multitude of races,

We illuminate the darkness of our souls,

With verses that hold crowds,

We study and search for new vocabulary,

We freestyle at times,

We forever stand proud,

Like a circus we attract audiences of all ages,

Sometimes on stages,

Sometimes through pages,

Our cultures may consist of emigrates and refugees,

And many citizens from broken societies,

We promote equality with each and everything we write,

Sometimes complimented with an sequel,

We come as diverse as a series of topics,

From the struggles of common man,

To those of our best friends,

We keep our minds wit close at hand,

We are the voice of the unseen and unheard,

We are the verbs, pronouns, and adverbs that we use,

With these words we get our points across,

Our pens are the souls for those that are lost,

Our poems represent the bodies for those that are new,

We were born to do this,

We grew to do this,

As poets we stay true to this art form that we continue to uphold,

We promote spiritual health,

Even if it does not lead to material wealth,

We offer greatness and stability,

And at most times a sanctuary in our works,

In all these things that must come first,

We promote our views through our poetry,

We produce this form of art that many read and listen to,

And the most important of all,

We live to put together the next poet's verse,