Poetry to me.

A poem is alive.
A poem should thrive.
A poem should never strive to become alive.
Something that might strike us as wise or a surprise.
Anything that could evoke memories or thoughts of demise.
Something real 'cause a poem is alive and should thrive.
All alone and bare.
'cause someone will care.
At some point in time.
Maybe not today.
But a day after,
maybe madness,
or just sadness.
Alive, flying freely to great heights...
Maybe reaching someones terror and frights.
Or perhaps, inspiring someones delights.
Poems live alive floating and evoking.
Problem lies in ability of provoking.
Emoting emotion.
Go free poem, be.
Live alive, 'cross sea.
Be alive, live free.
Poetry to me.