There are Poets, Then there is the Monster Poet
Some have seen what in soul schemes
Others will try to sketch in dreams
Work unlike, words stretched far
To the point monstrous the bar
Words will flow from mind and mouth
Savored through time, monster no doubt
Will chew on words and then cry out
Poem his child his talked about
Howling at moon as werewolves do
Picture we can what will come true
Lurking on site feeling at home
Is this monster working his own
Magic his, no sleeves to hide
His gift, calling, in heart abides
What some will wish they could become
Monster poet who's still not done
The craft not witch in soul he holds
The best to come both new and old
Will trace a path to secret lair
Where monsters roam if one so dares
Once upon a time we wrote
Of this same monster where stunned were folks
That thought insult was our intent
How wrong, these thoughts misread and bent
I wrote this one to bring again
Attention to modest my friend
Monster poet to us a peer
Monster of write so have no fear
Dear Rich as fine wine does
Your work monstrous, and sip above!
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