Why Is Life? Poem by Philip Winchester

: Why is Life (Your Humble Coat of Many Colours)
(Spenserian)

Look alive Poet! From whence you started out.
To survey the unique position you are in today.
Perhaps you find your plate so piled high with doubt?
A Paragon of words abound, use them how you may.
Be not set with vitriolic gremlins misery plagued.
I would rather stare into space than take much time to say.
If your humble fate is in your own hands anyway?
No God -forsaken playground this, now Anyone can play.
Rewarding Mothers of Invention throughout every live long day.

You are Alive and to the Manor born.
The moment you discovered words and phrases.
To rhyme and rhythm, your lot to thrive upon.
Your transport vehicle to a thousand places.
Embroider each and every line you write.
The monument can ride out of mystic phases,
The ticket on this journey, yours by right.
Identity hidden by a million Poet faces,
True colour to your verse within the woven traces.

But my Poet Friend just be aware lest you be forgetting
The body that you inhabit is but a cloak to gain your entry,
To a position of great power one that up to date has had you guessing.
Your mission in this Life is to be revealed sometime, eventually.
But until the Masters are both satisfied, please watch your P`s and Q`s
As a youth you have an impatient way about you,
Forget your thoughts of death, seeds planted to serve just to confuse.
My advice to you my dear to stop acting as a Fool.
By God you have it all, Your Life is One Big School.