WHY POETS WRITE
The boy found me there
while searching at random...
The years passed us by;
I was not abandoned...
For he was my witness
when I was alone...
He traveled with me
when I wasn't at home...
He watched and he sighed
when I answered his call...
Not knowing that his
was the sweetest of all.
And the shadows; they vanished,
as night turned to day...
And now that I see him
I can't look away....
For he's grown into manhood
through years spent unknown...
With beauty as such
that it's turned me to stone...
A sprite child angel
that's fallen to Earth...
He's more than a match
for my status and worth...
He's exactly what he saw
within me and more...
Exemplifies simply
what poets write for.
Written By Jason Wright
AUGUST 21, 2006
for Joshua Cunningham - I'm
flattered that you kept track of me,
honored that you thought of me, &
grateful to know you (in any sense of the word).