My Poems Come Out of the Soul Of What I Am

MY POEMS COME OUT OF THE SOUL OF WHAT I AM

My poems come out of the soul of what I am
They are small
And they do not remain forever
They return and repeat themselves
Before leaving me alone.

My poems come out of the soul of what I am
But they do not really know me
Somewhere in another universe
They are read and reread endlessly
As if their meaning is more real
Than I can ever know it to be.