Branded But Holding The Key

You write, Are you branded For life? Probably, But in a much more Humane way Than the branding iron's Scarlet letter. Poetry in the poet Leaves its mark Not escapable, Only, writable Often you may write A poem, simply by feel Having joyous, appeal Fulfilling you, Mellifluously, entirely Fascinating, words appear Like magic doves, Flying from magician's hat Your poem sings melodically, Euphorically, Maybe claiming other souls That want to see, to feel What you see and give As the doors to dreams open, For its you, Poet Who holds the key, to Poetry.