How do I know what a poem should be?
Poems are secrets opened with
Careful, surgeon’s fingers,
Revealing the beating heart beneath.
Poems point a finger at me,
And at you,
Truths peeling back our armor.
Poems slips knives between
Our ribs,
Sharp with life-threatening pain.
Poems are prescriptions,
Lenses opening our eyes,
World suddenly new.
Put Out to Pasture 
The good ones are. Well done, you!
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Thank you! 😊
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Fresh, unexpected, and true.
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Thank you!
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So they are! Well said.
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Thanks!
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You are welcome! 🙂
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Poems are a way of revealing ourselves, even if that was not what was intended 🙂 🙂
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