“At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet,”



-Plato

All it takes, really, is just one little touch,
One little stroke to spark enough,
Then the whole mind is engulfed,
With the thought of simply being loved.
The victim realizes then, there is no escape,
The transformation soon begins to take place.
They just can’t help it, they’re itching to
Spill their feelings, all anew,
Bleeding their thoughts upon the paper,
They write as if the idea never were,
And they were just now starting out,
To help this feeling of love come about.
There needs not be a rhyme,
For the flow is enough to know,
That, given sufficient time,
The magic of love will glow.
Pen flies through the air,
Words suddenly fill the paper, once bare,
Stricken the victim, hard as a bullet,
“At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.”