Colin F. Jones

THE RECLUSE

~ 1 ~

I don’t go out. I stay at home,
And I don’t like to meet old friends,
I spend a lot of time alone,
Lest what I say offends.
I know what I am skilled to do,
And that people misunderstand
That there are just a very few
With the same calluses on their hands.
Most get it wrong, but that’s all right,
They have not been where I have been,
And though they think themselves so right
They seldom know what I mean.
And I used to think that I was wrong,
But then I was young and green.

~ 2 ~

It does not matter what you say,
It matters who you are –
So long as you conform and pray
And drive an expensive car.
You must of course, mix with those
Whose money makes them strong,
And wear the right in vogue clothes,
To show that you belong.
Then all the fool things that you say
Will be considered true and wise,
And millions of folk will come and pay
For what they would otherwise despise.
For the truth is that it’s just the way;
For the world is run on lies.

~ 3 ~

What you get from this old man,
Are opinions – straight and true,
And a great deal more, where I am
Allowed a point of view.
I am many things to many folk
Who don’t like the things I say;
That, I consider quite a joke
For they give themselves away.
Most do read with their own minds,
Not the way the words are writ,
Revealing what a poet finds
Are thoughts that just permit
Another verse to justify
The long hours that I sit.

~ 4 ~

It is fashionable, dare I note,
To praise only what you like;
That fits the thoughts you might quote
But not verses you dislike,
For though dislike changes not
The merits of a verse,
The poet he becomes a clot
Because the critic has the purse.
The greatest writer in the land
Is the one who makes the claim,
And is publicized to make him grand,
That others feed from his fame;
For he must write to suit the trend,
Or disintegrate in shame.