  Listen to the humble words That a down-hearted poet did write; He was in a world of darkness And could not see no light. His mind was on one person, But his soul was somewhat chilled, Though he’d smile when spoken to, For this was just his build. Maybe his mind is traveling, Is why he looks in space, His heart is loving some one, His actions proves the case. But soon his thoughts will change To sunshine or maybe flowers, Then with joy he’ll sit and write For hours after hours. A poet has many a thought That come and go each day, He dwells in the land of beautiful scenes, Though some are a thousand miles away. His sweetest thoughts is tender love, His next is the breath of a rose, And oh! how the two, gladdens hearts When their souls are reposed. Drink not of a bottle That has sparkling bubbles, This habit once formed Means a world of trouble. |
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