I recently enrolled in a poetry class and realized that poetry is a lot more difficult to write (and understand) than I could have ever imagined. Apparently rhyming cat and hat is not nearly enough to make me a poet; who knew? I dedicate this poem to all of those who encouraged me through this process and kept my words on the right track.

But it's poetic!

A poem usually begins

With a night of stars and inspiration

What is that exactly? No clue.

But it’s poetic

So I sit and write, grinning

Because neither I, nor anyone else

Can make sense of what’s written

But it’s poetic

Using inimical, rather than bad

And jovial, rather than happy

Harder to understand? Yes.

But it’s poetic

I can cut up senten

Ces, wherever I

‘d like. Weird,

But it’s poetic

And then there are certain times

When it’s most fitting to add rhymes

Or not

But it’s poetic

Billions of bits, broken and borrowed

Built, but bound together brutishly

Bunches of brain matter begging to blend, boorishly

But (b)it's (b)poetic

With figures of speech

Like Egyptian Hieroglyphics

Totally off-the-wall

But it’s poetic

We YELL and (whisper)

Boldly, or gracefully.

Sometimes even (ALL of ThEm).

But it’s poetic

There’s the infamous haiku, too, remember?

Start and end with five

Seven, to split. Strange? Yes.

But it's poetic

And in the end

The poem must eloquently conclude

Not with a coherent resolution

But with