A Poets Job (My Cut Up)

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.

Nice...Im feelin it foreal