" All foolishness." she said,
years of gifted thoughts tore up before my eyes;
Hundreds of treasures the spirit told me to write,
now lay in tatters as I try not to cry.
So this is the real battle of the poet,
its not the stagnant times when the pen lay still;
But its the people with no understanding,
trying to force on you their will.
I wonder how many other ageless rhymes,
were cast away in haste;
Yes, this is where the real evil lies,
that tries to lay our gift to waste.
But I will hold fast to my treasured gift,
and in the future may I be more aware;
And only share it with others like me,
and pray they handle my gift with care.