Soldiers have their band of brothers
And Christian saints set lights
On hills to be seen
But poets lurk in dark corners
Writing words that stay sealed in books
That they hide under piles
Of heaped illusions
For fear of being found out
Hearing people murmur as they pass
Saying: there's the poet, the freak
We judge you and condemn you
As being too different from us
But I stand up and throw down the bands sealing my book
Speak word of wisdom and foolish thoughts
And point my finger and say
You too write poetry
No comments:
Post a Comment