The Magnificence

Pen to paper, magic flows from the ink.
Words link together, sentences weave.
Poetry is formed like an angel sewing a blanket of inspiration.
But there are those, those who cannot believe, who cannot see;
The magnificence of the poem. 

They live in the darkest corners of the dustiest basement.
They thrive on the cores of rotten apples.
They feed off the lies of politicians and the flames of Satan.
They cannot appreciate what is great in this world, or
The magnificence of the poem.

But there are those who see, who understand, who absorb,
Everything the poem has to offer, from the tiniest similie,
To the greatest extended metaphor and the longest alliteration.
To the deeper meaning swimming inside the depths of words.
For the magnificent poem is one that can be seen through a thousand eyes.