The Stack Of Unwanted Papers

The Poem

I discovered something yesterday,

A piece of writing yet to stray,

A poem that spills all tea,

A story that I yet to seek,

In the that poem,

There are quite some words,

All so sad and solemn,

The rhyming pattern into thirds,

I hated to say that it was rather boring,

Filled with emotion that left me stirring,

I can't deny it was indeed beautiful,

The way the writer poured their sould was delightful,

In the end the poem was consuming me,

so much that I ended up writing one,

The piece of writing I once let it be,

Has lifted the sun as it lifted me.