To The Poets

Don’t give me

Fancy words.

I don’t need the imagery

Perfectly describing something

Perfectly boring.

 

Too many calculated thoughts

Are making

My language

Into a math class

Will someone please add a heart?

 

I know it’s hard

To imagine

To dive deeper than

The depths

Of the surface.

 

It’s easier

To see what is shown

Like the overweight man to your right

Than to wonder

How he got that way.

 

It doesn’t matter

You’re shown that

People rot in the streets

The only ones thinking

About their own thoughts.

 

The rest

We just observe

Thinking it’s necessary

To write down

What anyone can see.

 

I want the raw emotion

The words too

Sink into my skin

I want you

To long to be read.

 

If I must be given an apple

Rip it from your chest

And write to me

How it beats out

The words you cannot spell.