Poem Person

I am a poem person

Little verses

Not always making sense

Not always flowing

Not always connected

No end no beginning

Just a being

Fleeting

Pick me up now

read a few lines

feel the pain

tumultuous

or the mirth that bubbles

beneath

and if you dare

bring it all out to the surface

Think of me too much

and you’d disintegrate

Love me just a bit

and leave me wanting

Besides, you can always fold me up

and carry me in your wallet

because I touched you

somewhere you don’t understand

Big fat books are always left behind,

anyway.