No one truly defines it.
Not even Mr. Webster truly captures the essence
the emotions of
of a million things that upset us
gives us a sense of horror
the small things we love
or struggle against
the flaws in society
the picture perfect landscape
that only words can describe
the cries of a newborn baby
the tears of a child
and scraping their knees at a playground
the tears that spill from our eyes
as we double over in laughter
or as we collapse in internal pain.
Poetry is the world around us
the issues we have in ourselves
the hope we have for the future
the memories of the past lives
It is Life.