Poetry is ecstasy 
The reward is intrinsic 
It spreads happiness 
The reward is balmystic.

Poetry enters through the eyes
And brings forth a smile
Changes the contours of the face
As we blush a shade. 

Poetry is niche
Read by a few
Yet it's what we read 
When we are screwed.

Poetry reconciles the similies and the souls
Metaphors hold the fort when alliterations are alone
It gives words to the feelings unknown
It's not just an emotion, but so much more.