I stand all alone,
In silence and sorrow;
In bitter, dark cold,
I wait for tomorrow.

Never do I move,
Not now, nor evermore;
Night’s rest does not sooth;
No. Darkness I deplore.

Knowing soon I’ll die,
Keenly watching, waiting;
Keeping track of time,
Kevlar can’t protect me.

Solemnly I see,
Spring and summer coming;
Snow will start to flee,
So my life starts melting.

Poems and riddles are actually very similar once you think about it. The symbolism and meaning in a poem can relate ideas about things in ways we may not think of. I appreciate the inherent structure in poetry; it forces a limitation of imagination and creativity into a mold that helps to make the ideas coherent and intelligible. You do not need to explicitly declare what you are talking about in poetry, which can make it a riddle.

There, that’s my two cents about poetry.