Imagine poets as being builders
Building their ideas of houses~
Laying one piece at a time
All the singles,couples and spouses~
How I can see those many buildings
In the same formation of their words~
Some as wonderful as ever in time
Others strictly for the birds~
Some how they build glass houses
Revealing all there is to see~
Others like a little solitude
And build homes of tranquility~
A few of them build churches
Others give all to building dreams~
A lot just wish to live in others sites
Or of late that's how it seems~
Another section build play houses
Where they can freely act a part~
Roll playing what they wish they were
Doing so at the expense of a heart~
Many lay foundations on the rock
Then theirs those that build on sand~
A few build with mud on flood plains
Turning a blind eye towards reality so grand~
I can just see the vastness of constructions
If poets were builders true~
Oh how the mind it boggles so
When asked which one are you ~
But if poets were all builders
And with verse they built a home~
So many would be set for life
Many others out in the cold and so alone~