Inside We are All Poets

Everyone, everyone, has things, thoughts inside them that are just out of view, tucked away, resting in comfort, hidden, content where they are now, there maybe forever. Stored, waiting perhaps, to be shared on the outside. Things then for the telling. The private, unrevealed, is precious, treasured. With so much of everything else being public, shared in peculiar ways via social networks, these unrevealed treasures are our special, secret possessions. These are feelings, beliefs, passions, observations, reflections. That could be translated into our own individual language, then communicated, if we so choose. These are our poems, revealed or not. Inside we are all poets.