I’m not a poet, she said
I can’t say pretty things, like that, she said.
I smiled at her, because she just had.

My inside-city is beautiful in its moonlight
And towers majestically in the noon sun
I wander its maze wearing a grin.

I am a large man, in shape and presence
I am a good man, in emotion and deed
I am a man, and knowing this grounds me.

My war hammer taps my leg as I walk
Aching to be used, now that it’s out.
I pat it fondly, my rage and anger.

I have found patience, in my heart.
I have found solace, in my city.
I have found myself, within myself.

My wings flex and stretch, yearning for flight
Achievement has always made me feel good
I fall off the cliff, laughing like a madman.