It's always been a strange task to start a poem Whenever the idea comes, I drop all I am doing And I write The idea flows from my head Without direction. And as I put It together, slowly with rhythm I get excited to show it to you, So you can read the idea I found So great that I needed to stop everything to write. But I show you the poem, hoping for The same excitement I have But I get nothing. Not even a forced "I like it" Or an honest "it needs work" It's the true test to a poet when his reader ignores him. He questions his ability, his talent To write. But the poet will always win because He will write a poem about it.