The Beauty of Life
Childbirth, so worth the cost.
Pictures of loved ones you have lost.
Pen, honestly, poet,no matter the cost!
Your garland of truth, glistens wonderfully upon your head.
You may be despised, but if not
genuine, you may as well be dead.
Bright stars surround a true spirit!
The plastic masses will see nothing in it.
Don't, worry, they are lost sheep-lings..
Born or raised to never get it!?
Fancy poetry is just empty space.
To impress, to win trophies with grace!
Behind them, I query, where is the real face?
"Here, let me impress you with a Sestina," said Paul.
I told him, I was not impressed at all
I asked him, "Can you be real at all?"
We went out and just genuinely laughed!
At each other's infantile poetry gaffes.
Then ordered a second, steaming coffee carafe.
Being real, is all,don't you see?
Sharing your true heart with humanity.
Anything else is but a tragic case of self-idolatry.
There is no reward for being real.
No headlines will you ever steal.
Go, now poet and pen only what you deeply feel!!
1/14/2021
~4~
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