Denied am I by Master poets
The right to dwell within
Bold print falls and becomes
in faded print a blank page
For my heart beats strong
And have no loves broken
Nor are caring words unspoken
No borrowed music lost dreams
no faked dances sacrificed lances
My poetic words simple truth
Nor nightmares and dream escapes
I am but me with my frailties
Nor would I beg for charm on bended knees
For there is no honor in plagiarism
Nor am I trapped in the womb of Wizards
Nor trapped amongst demon lizards
Vanishing in the arms of winged Angels
I am but me the voice of beckoning heart
Hoped to sit on the shelf with Hemmingway
Only the poetic Masters would say no way
Those who judge poetry have barred the gate
Vanity is those who live with Crimson heart
And as I stand out in open beyond locked gate
I know those who judge my poetry not that great
In the lexicon of poetry love and hate
That made up is really just an emotional state