The poet that’s within me is one I can’t evict
by William J. (Skip) Henderson Jr.
Continued verse, rhyme and time seems to always interdict.
Sometimes my thoughts are not my own, it is from my heart they do pour out
Like rainfall on a rooftop, flowing from a gutter’s spout.
I have so many thoughts cascading through my mind
The words just start flowing out in some verse or rhyme.
Thank God I do not talk aloud the way that my mind works
Some might think I’m crazy or maybe even worse.
When I do write of these things I ponder,
My thoughts are so vivid that it makes me wonder.
What is the source of these rhymes, they are so numerous
They keep running through my psyche that I find it humorous.
I catch me laughing at myself for the rhymes and verse that come
Sometimes they make no sense until I write them down.
Then the words commence to make some sense of these feelings deep within
I hope that I can write them down and serve them with a grin.
The verse is served in simple words wanting to be understood
By anyone who reads them and feels my passion from inside,
And will know that behind them is a place I will not hide.
Always on my shirtsleeve is where I hold my heart I serve up my true emotions a-la-carte.
So I keep on listening to my mind race on
And try to write of these things and try to carry on.
While I endeavor to maintain my sanity
And just keep writing on and on, just for you and me.