Poetry Sucks

Poetry sucks your breath away
gives clarity to the heaviest fog
hope to hearts smothered with indifference
peace to the living; honor to the dead
it can flush the cheeks of cultivated ladies
and wets the cotton of virginal passion

Poetry sucks tears down painted faces
races the hearts of the shyest readers
in one brief moment it can take you
from wooded groves to pearly beaches
twisting and turning with metaphorical grace
transforms blank white paper to enduring life