Foregrounded

A starting point of sharp velars

That cut and crack and cold consume,

And leave nothing but a blackened gloom,

Of faces lost and undefined.

A word that initiates thoughts in the mind

Of every thinker it lands upon,

Contrasting gentle with the strong

Emotions felt when read in whole.

The writer scoffs when hearing praise

Of how masterful his pen appears,

When it brings its audience to tears

Or lets them feel or empathise.

For the writer may agree, but he lies,

He put no thought into that verb,

But to tell the truth would greatly disturb

The poem’s appeal or mystery.

As the importance is not whether it was meant to be,

But merely that on the page it lies,

And in every reader the poet tries

To foreground something strange and new.