Poets Don't Cry

Poets don't cry real tears
loved, lost. They'll never wonder why.
Their pen and paper show their emotions,
they choose the written word.

Poets hide behind the hidden meaning,
like a child cowers from their fears.
A poet lets others interpret that which he wrote
from the tip of their razor-sharp sword.

Poets imagine things that aren't crystal clear,
but can anyone see the world with blinders on?
Words cannot replace having you near,
together watching the sun as the day is nigh.

Poets write those special prayers
while others kneel down and... cry.