Not everything is a poem

Or so she says
As I walk away from her
Being sure not to look back;
This
Is certainly
A poem.

Life
Is a poem,
It seethes through
Daily moments of glory;
Death
Is a poem,
It drips through tears
Into words written silently
Sitting in funeral homes.

Me,
I am a poem,
I twist and turn,
I rhyme and scheme;
She,
She is not a poem,
She does not seep
With passion
As a poem does,

And if life
Is a poem,
Life must then be passionate,
Pulsate through bodies
And course through minds.

I am passionate.
I find poems everywhere.
Just the other day
I saw a poem
Beneath her blouse-
Still she
Did not see it.

She must be blind!
Poetry is everywhere!