Poetry Is…

Poetry is a black hole For those who dare cross its event horizon, they are consumed by its rapacious appetite, Thus, they consume in the process, as the world continues to spin As for me? I say, let me live life as a poem, rather than pen intent Poetry is light Get too close and you shall surely burn It can reach incredible highs and heights, And depths of your hearts wants Be careful of its charm, for it knows very well how to dress with just you in mind I say, let me shut my eyes, less it's light blind me to reality Poetry is an oddity It has neither height, nor depth, width or mass In the physical sense Yet in the minds eye, it exists! Yes, but to what end? I say this in my own case, admittedly, I just don't know Maybe one day, I will be compelled to cross its threshold of no return, Or embrace the light, No matter how hot it's burn But as for now, I just choose to dance with her, At least until I get to know her moves, for poetry is also a woman, and as all know, women can be moody