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Careers in Poetry
Careers in Poetry
To die for Beauty, but to live for Grace,
To count your blessings, if they are just dreams,
To live untamed, yet find your social place,
To make order when chaos reigns supreme,
To know the law condemns all good or bad,
Yet hope the world’s made better by your crimes,
Which, meek, expound mute feelings glad or sad,
So contemplation weak controls your times,
The data hard, mirrored through reflection,
Kaleidoscope like music sung aloud,
Warped, cracked glass distorts all imperfections,
Regardless of reaction from the crowd,
Heartbeats captured, their pulsing word for word,
To be a poet is its own reward.
by David Billings, c All Rights Reserved, 2003
:) I like how you put it,
:) I like how you put it, being a poet is its own reward...this is true. for all the hastle and comments, the times one is called over sensative, or drama queen, nothing beats the way it feels to be a poet!
Much Love
Ashley