Parable of the Sower

I ask what’s the purpose For a writing with no reason A hundred thousand words together Has definition but no meaning The expenditure of ink is the Mouth running off for no reason But what I write is what I reap So I write and sow in Season Because it is the sowing season The ground is ready for planting seed Some may grow tall and strong Some will be swallowed up by weeds Some will be picked off Some will die in scorching heat Wether or not fruit is produced the difference between triumph and defeat The rockier the soil The less the roots and foundations Will grow to be deep The seed that falls to the wayside Becomes the violence in the streets The seed that gets picked off Is the one that is led astray The seed that dies in scorching heat Is the one that did not withstand the day The seed that became swallowed up is the one that lost its way The seed that grew to flourish And produced its fruit within its season Is the seed that overcame And was planted well with sight and reason.