A poem is a gift to the self
I write for myself above all else
There may be an object of Desire
or a muse by which I am inspired
I may gift a poem to you
You may keep it or share it, too
Yet the poem that has spawned
Belongs to me all along
Not selfishly but intimately
My poem is a part of me
Without need of your approbation
Without need of your admiration
You don’t have to understand
What I write nor who I am
Because this poem is my seed
I distinguish it from other weeds
Whether it bears fruit or not
My poem is what others are not
