Why I love Poetry . . .

I love the freedom poems give. How the words don't have to fit together, how it really doesn't need to make sense as long as it rings true in your heart. How even the most unfitted rythme can create the perfect melody. I love hiding in it. Here I don't have to be so careful, so stone chizzled smooth, as though the slightest off-touch could shatter this glass. It's better here, where no one can see. I bet you can see, though, can't you? It makes you feel. Even when you don't want to, especially when you need to. How it can be incomplete, because really that's what we all are. Books without a conclusion, yet to create the sequel, unending cliffhangers . . .