Master
Poet to P.I.F.
(c)2013 Bob
Atkinson
wandered
through a maze
as I do both
now and then
following
trails of discovery
about those
words she'd penned
saw the
accolades bestowed
upon her
works so fine
wondered how
these words began
desired to
read her finest lines
took some
time, writings obscure
published in
some costly books
Amazon had
them there behind
closed covers
locked with currency
searched
more, found the ribbons
had been
given her in mass
she must have
written a masterpiece
this learned
sweet young lass
oh, it took a
long time
to find one
of her themes
shock
attacked my brainy part
when found it
I did scream
this isn't
all I hoped for
words do not
inspire me
for there on
the laptop screen
I nearly lost
my tea
choked and
gagged,
spit and
saddened
nearly lost
my lunch
there before
me stood some tripe
words thrown
into a bunch
so to her
credit I began
to formulate
my bestest plan
to rid the
world of these bad parts
at least do
something for that stand
a "Poet"
isn't created and designated
when words
mixed without form or purpose
unrehearsed,
cheesy, lacking fine refrain
won't rise
greatness to the surface
those who
take this mantle lightly
and work the
system for their own
benefit at
the expense of mankind
if starving,
would not throw a bone
Master Poet
she is not
hardly a
P.I.F. in a large pot
no standing
"O's" would she receive
when yelling
out her dreams of written rot
Poets In
Fact, or P.I.F.'s if you will
give more
than take within this realm
they do not
make the masses smirk
when the word
poetry gets mentioned
they do, on
the other hand
bring many on
their feet to stand
and
re-enforce that feeling of
enlightened
senses and honest passions
they give for
free with willingness
to share
their inner dreams
complimentary
display of thoughtful words
ordered to
make us better people
No comments:
Post a Comment