Colin F. Jones

WHY DO I WRITE?

Why do I write? To please myself?
Or yet to please my poet friends?
For I write naught that serves my wealth,
And my style of note serves not the trends.
I reach for wisdom and the truth,
And show the way through tear and fear,
That might be absorbed by fickle youth,
Who will not read one word writ here.
For most do think they know it all,
And until they do will not resort,
To reading needlessly the scrawl,
Scribed by the poet in his report.
What a waste of time. To gain a yard,
A backward step describes the bard.