I,Alone

I alone long ago friends have already went home Just a quiet poet,you see typing away as youth lets me be Selfish desire put out the burning fire Once I was a boy but now who easily tires I at night choosing the words that might earn me a living who feverishly need just a roof over my hair without expensive tastes in greed You could go on enjoying what you have the same old MONEY FOR NOTHING song Savoring the luxury of choice as for myself I have not a choice However Poetry is what I am solely about Using it for voice Instead of trying to rock or shout Being quiet and so in my unique way As the poem is read from your eyes Think about what it has to say The next time a poet brings down a poem from his(or her)skies