Do not deteriorate me into a poem.
Yes, I move. I am
Moved but I do not ebb and flow by your
I remain intact despite your efforts at reduction.
I am truth and if the image
is distorted, it’s your mirror that is broken.
Beauty cannot be perverted, spoiled or defiled.
as I am.
Man’s depravity, adultery has nothing to do with me.
All else corrodes but I cannot be shaken.
The world lays waste, cities crumble,
Eats only man.
And your poem - faulty, rusted.
I am not a poem.
I am the Poet.