Stephen J. Kroos · Klots (Original Mix)

i don't understand poetry

"Speak to me," I cry,
Yet the words on the page stared as blankly at me as I stared at them.
They did not utter a sound.
Lines, stanzas, verses -
Tangled up like the earbuds I wore that blared simple songs of
Love
And whatever else may be sellable and comprehensible
So I took out my sharp pickaxe mind
And chiselled deeper, deeper, deeper
Hoping to find some treasure
In mud of muddled words

Perhaps this was the words' intention:
Special, sparkling, brilliant meaning
Was the reward for those patient enough
To take a reader by the hand
And walk with them on their journey.