Poetry save me

You are wind, You are fire, The flame that burns to my creative soul. Are you created? Are you gifted? Or are you just a thought? Maybe you are magic, The way you bring a visual to your readers with a few cleverly chosen words. Who are you? Poetry? I ask who? Are you? You run through my veins, Deep in my soul. I live for you, in you, with you, Just to share part of your name. Poet, am I? I am, poet I am and if not then poetry set me free. For without your title my words mean nothing. My words, not a message no more. My words now just a mere conversation blending with society and it's normal ways.