REALITY OF BEING A POET

As weak as I am,
As strong as I seem
I dress up with words,
That fit my needs

So

You’ll never quite know,
What I’m really about
A facade of persona,
That you’ll never doubt

I’ll be a pillar when,
Inside I’ve crumbled
Calm, cool,
When my head screams and cries

Fine, when I know an unjust was done
Diplomatic when,
I’m raging inside

You will hear how beautiful life can be,
As I try my own self to convince
I write without, hesitation of hope,
Words of belief,
Are scribbled,
With nary a wince

Our lines, our stanzas,
Our poems of life
We instill faith,
For those who read

While inside we are really calling out,
For ourselves to also believe