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Poem Within a Poem

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I do love letting my mind now roam
in some poem within a poem;
hear rhymes between these lines,
put there by my unaware designs.

Just a single moment in time,
camouflaged under all this rhyme;
the truer message I intend to send
while these stanzas weave, then bend.

Perhaps reveal a thing or two—
why all the other colors are blue,
surrounded by these shades of gray,
competing soliloquys in this play.

Knowing how there is nothing sweeter
than a most proud and perfect meter;
that stresses all that it then should—
a nod to both the evil and the good.

So that, long after the poem is done,
the real lesson has finally begun
to seep out of these poetic pages:
a cryptic message from past ages.

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