Where a Poem Lies

I just left a literature class and we had a poem recital. As we left I threw my poem away and noticed everyone doing it too when this poem came to mind.

The poem recital was done

We all clapped our hands like a monkey

Pale flapping birds that had never seen sun

For strung-up old words that sound funky

 

The poets, they cooed and they pecked

Finding hints in the author's mind-trash

Emotions unspoken from archaic specks

And order from meaningless hash

 

But a poem that unoften spoken

Was gentle and sweet as a stream

It's rhythm benign, so kind and unbroken

It's flow swept me into my dreams

 

When we left the building that night

We all tossed the poems away

Into the bin, the crafted word's flight

Like a gull that had called it a day

 

I was sorry to throw it aside

It's fate wouldn't be very kind

But in all honesty I could keep it inside

Where it's beauty resides in my mind.