Poetry is a way of life; my life is a poem, written day by day,
It is a well, to draw forth my inspiration, to direct and show me the way.
It is a pit, to discard my frustrations, to cleanse my troubled soul,
It is a balm, to sooth my fevered brow, to mend and make me whole.
It is a balcony, to which like Romeo, I can express my heart,
Or a rapier, by which, like Cyrano, I can go and tear it apart.
A fire to flame my desires, and a font to quench in kind,
A window to my thoughts and a mirror of my mind.
A wall to protect me,
A pedestal to present me,
A shroud to hide me,
And, one day, an epitah to bury me.

Written by MMTM - 31/12/92