What a Poem Was Written For

What use is a vain trophy, For untouched, unread poetry? The words and lines are thirsty For a reader's glance, maybe? What then are a hundred books Published but gathering dust? Just like many dried up brooks, Can't give water as it must. For in the end the reason We write and paint with our pen, Is to reach with words, someone Pray our works may not be hidden. Let them not remember names, But in their hearts there store Phrases, meanings and not fame, What the poem was written for! All rights reserved~~~~ Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~01.24.14