Purpose of the Poet
By Gunslinger
Some people say we're foolish To while away our time... Dwelling on our daydreams- And jotting down our rhyme. What purpose serves the poet? What profit is the sage? Why friend, we are, have always been- The conscience of our age. We see beyond the commonplace- Of how things seem to be. Delve into the unknown depths- We call Eternity... What impact has our dreaming? And what of things we write? Our works, just like a traveler's fire... Burn bravely in the night. Aye, true, our words might stir a heart- Indeed, 'tis their design... I'll think, I'll write, while breath remains... Within these lungs of mine. Written February 20th, 2002 © on Feb 20 2002 03:37 AM PST, John R. Yaws 0 • 10
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Some people say we're foolish..."