Loyde P. “Snake” Arender

THE POET

I went to the store today
alone, in the rain.
Many people staring, looking
Speechless and non-caring.
But who am I to judge?
Does it really matter?
Does anyone actually care?
For aren’t we all poets
in our own right?
Words, thoughts, and opinions
penned on paper
with or without rhyme or reason.
The style of which matters not
but which is used to cry out
from the soul for help.
But yet, who hears?
And who, if any, really care?
Yes! To write, to ramble on
is a joyous release for those of us
who long to hear our words heard
and our emotions and feelings felt.
As to cry out into the wind,
that wind which has blown
and will continue to blow
for thousands of years;
and in the wind
our words will live forever.