Missed Message

Some people think poets walk with their heads in the clouds

Drifting through life filled with fanciful notions, not in reality

Some people think poets wear their hearts on their sleeves

So easily swept away by some kind gesture, or a pretty face

Some people think poets get carried away with their anger

Raging against stuff beyond their control, even death itself

Some people think poets swoon over things like the sun rising

Too ready to surrender all, too willing to let themselves fall

Some people think poets live for wading through pools of despair

Wallowing in self-pity, wildly exaggerating their every heartache

But poets think people simply don’t understand life’s mystery

Despite how often, or how desperately, poets try to explain it