Personal is universal

I was going to be a great poet
Who would never write about
Petty, trivial, personal topics
 

Unlike all those famous poets
Inspired by eyes and lips
And hair and breasts

I was going to be a thinker
 

Who wrote about the world
Made grave and profound
Intellectual pronouncements

Until reality caught up on me
And all that poured out of my pen
Was the stuff of my heart
And all that moves me to write
Is your tender, tenderness