Poem

The simpleness of taking words
And honestly, it’s quite absurd
That throwing them into poem
Makes easier for one to know’em

So throwing them is what I’ll do
If they stick, its up to you
For poems are so personal
Yet subjects they could cover all

To hear a tale about a horse
It runs, it sways upon a course
To you, a horse is steadiness
To him, the horse is readiness

To hear a tale about a tree
It grows real tall beyond the sea
To him, it means the words of life
To you, its roots hold firm and tight

To hear the story of a man
He’s rich, then poor, thrown in the sand
A story of enduring faith
Or story of a punished fate

See, art and words are just like clay
They move around whomever plays
For one, the clay is as it’s made
For others, it can be persuade

Does its value change, you ask
Now that’s a question with a task
For is a golden goblet good
If only stands where it once stood

Is jewelry value set in stone
Or does it come from what it’s known
Does history upon a thing
Make the value soar and sing

Words they seem so easily known
When people put them in a poem
Yet mixed with many thoughts absurd
The complexity of simple words.