If I were a poem

What would I be

A simple Haiku

With a powerful identity

Or would I be a Limerick

Skipping along

Sing-song rhyme

Maybe a Villanelle

Repeating 

Instilling  beauty

Keeping a rhythmic time

Perhaps I'd be an Ode

Glorifying someone else

Or maybe just a line or two

A trinket on a shelf

I think I will be what e'er I desire

Perhaps

A passionate poem

Written on flames of fire

Or a silly little something

That says silly little things

Nothing profound

Just silly sounds and names

And then again

I might pretend to be

A storyteller as well

A long journey into a soul

Who rose up and then fell

And then comes the

Dark side

When e'er I fell the need

I'll be a poem about the

Lost and forgotten

Left aside to bleed

I may turn around then

And see the sun that shines through the cold rain

I'll be the verse that doesn't curse

And

Talk of new life in Spring

No matter what path I take

I will not be still

So never mind what poem

I am

Just be the poem 

You will!