I tried to sell my soul To Poetry. Poem extended.

I tried to sell my soul
To Poetry, in exchange
For some higher art,
I didn’t think it foul,
I thought I’d do my part,
Bringing something through
Wonderful, and new,
And enlightening, too.
Poetry laughed at my face,
It showed me its hand and said,
“I already own you anyway,”
I was shocked to hear her say
I’m her slave. It is my fate.
And then Poetry said:
“You be grateful for this way,
And be yourself always,
You’ll gain the secret vein
Of the poetry train. “
It is my pleasure to work
For the lady of my soul,
My Poetry is her own,
We’re united with much Love.

©EveLovestar