Every poem is like one of my children
They all begin with a sleepless night
Carefully I bear them under my heart
Until the moment of poetic labor
They come out with pain and bring me joy
I help them grow and mature
I let them into the world and hope they survive
Through volumes of books and lack or interest
Accept them as they are - awkward but sincere
Don't scrutinize over a word or a phrase
Who knows, maybe someday they'll make it happen
And find their way into your heart
They all are different,
But they all are my children.