Poetry is a measure of a man’s heart; a glimpse into his soul
Words congeal into hidden desires and unspoken truths
Capturing the essence of his being as he journeys through life
Each year passing liken to footsteps he treads upon the earth.
Many leave nigh a trace of their passing; memories lost forever
Some inspire and make hearts flutter and coo
But they too shall have their existence washed away
By the inescapable tides of time.
A rare few transcend the echoes of the ages
Their words fermenting in the annals of public record
The legacy of their imprint well defined and everlasting
The secret desire of all poets once they cross that threshold of no return.
Michael A. Walker
Defying Procrastination
