How can you create art

If you cannot hate

And there is no spite

No violent passions

Like love in the dark

No grinding fuck

No passionate deep held kiss

How can you be called poet

If you’ve never been sad

Never been crushed

Never bled in pain

Or wanted to hold

Or wanted to kill

You cannot imagine death

You cannot create life

But you can copy it

You can draft

A reasonable facsimile

To pretend humanity

Only to be a shadow

Cast upon the ground

Suggesting something greater

Between it and the sun