We are like hunters, seekers and finders
Reminders of how life used to be when the kinder
Loved the stranger,
so we Poets stunt the anger
Rock the world, then watch the world sleep in its manger
Keep sheep from danger,
wolves of stupidity
With a vest of civility, wearing pants of humility
Clothed in verity,
a poets job is never over
Cant lose composure, give originality its exposure
Find closure for the overture
of life and living
The perfect songs to sing, not the price of giving
Limited not to rhyme, rhythm,
stanzas and captions
But to the time we're given, paint a canvas of actions.
A poets job isn't over in death, but over when breath
Cannot meet with purpose to better every step
Whats left
when all the words are spoken?
Then its time to find a new job.
