is a curious thing,
sometimes cries,
sometimes sings.
At times a quivering
emotional jello,
others a loud
rage-filled bellow.
As soft as the down
of a new-hatched bird,
as sharp as the blade
of a samurai sword.
Innocent and child-like
in matters of the world,
crafty and cunning
in love's torrid whorl.
The poet's soul
is both gift and curse,
for we who paint life
in rhyme and verse.
© Francisco G. Rodriquez, 2017
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