My spirit is sweetness,
It shrivels with shame;
When words of rancour
Their presence proclaim.

My spirit is compassion,
It cries out in pain;
To see injury inflicted,
For pleasure or gain.

My spirit is love
It pleads for a chance;
To reveal its true nature,
With ecstasy to dance.

My spirit is free,
No barriers to bind;
Crosses countries and nations,
Kindred souls to just find.

Poets are like you and me
an ordinary class of men;
They just have a way with words
Touching hearts with their pen