Proud Poet
"What do you want to be when you grow up, son?"
"I think I want to be a poet."
"Oh no," moans Mom.
"Anything but that," groans Dad.
"You'll never make a living," chimes in Uncle Phil.
"Who'd ever marry a poet?" rasps Aunt Lil.
"Maybe you can be a professor," urges sister.
"But I've nothing to profess."
"Or a prominent researcher," urges brother.
"To conclude that my theory was just a guess?"
"How about Law?" cousin Dave suggests.
"Who me? --Defend scoundrels and societal pests?
"Public Service," counsels best friend Harvey. "That's the ticket."
"No way. Politics is not for me. I'm already sick of it."
"Business, ha-ha," smiles 'Honest Sam.' "That's where the money's made."
"Not if I have to lie, cheat, and steal to get paid."
"Well then, medicine's an upright calling," asserts Dr. Surgeon.
"Sure is--if you can handle student loan debt ever-burgeoning.
"So son," probe Mom and Dad, "Why in Heaven do you want to be a poet?"
"Because poets seek the Truth, and their poems show it."
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