there's poetry in your laughter and in all your songs,
along with the puddles that you skidded upon.
sombre skies and glittered pain,
poetry in everything you find vain.
touched ceilings melted in the rain,
as it dripped down the walls where poetry began,
fireflies roamed before our eyes,
but vanishing to dust when we turned to ice.
poetry in all that we kissed and touch,
but sadness in all that we played and flushed.
remembrance then became never enough when
the sound of poetry sulked and destruct.
then i say catch it, feel it and hold on to it,
block down the holes and the swallowing pits,
free all your souls that beg for poetry,
as it freed your minds when you needed fleeing.
do it a favour as it had done you,
love it the same as it had loved your lips,
sigh when it's leaving,
and cry when it's gone,
for poetry was where your colours had begun.
