Poem By Daniel Bates
To read a poem bares their soul,
O' love, o' hatred, o'death, o' thought,
It's within the words in which we are taught,
In these readings I become nigh owl.
So intense, so rich are such words.
Sometimes I cry, sometimes I laugh,
Sometimes I think, deeply in my gaff,
Never, do I think this absurd.
It is in with poems, verse and sonnet,
That we can see true beauty
That it then becomes duty
To relay these words. I'm on it!