POETRY ISN'T FREE

POETRY ISN’T FREE*Some people say all art should be free!But it’s not really free,not for you, not for me. *For someone pays dearly wherever it thrives,you know damn well,that frees just a lie!*You pay for it all through things you wrote.And some things remembered, are better left dead,*But it’s for our art we are able to give.It’s for our art’s sake that we choose to relive.*Though we feel free to dissect our own lives,we must pay a big debt, to that muse who collects.*We're free to pick tales of inner strife,but there’s a reason why poets, sometimes take their own lives.*You bleed from the inside, so none see the pain, or what you resurrect,to arrive at that fact.*We’re forced to confront our own public demons,for keeping in touch, with ourinner-most feelings,*Till feelings that surface become overflowing,like a bubbling cauldron, boiling overflowing!*We feel as though we’re baring our soul.While the voyeur’s circle, to swallow us whole!*Our emotional armor’s been left in the closet,as our vulnerable skin,has proven too thin.*To post leaves us open to vicious attack,while critics await, to stab in the heart!*But most wouldn’t change it, it'something we lovelike Manna from heaven, We’re inspired from above.*But poetry isn’t easy and poetry isn’t free. it’s known to wreak havoc, on you and on me!*They know things about us that most would not know,because we’ve gone to places, where no one else goes. *That's the price that we pay, to create what we loveand it's the joy that it brings,we never cease to be in awe of!*WordPlaya, March 2009