Dedication Poem by The Wright Brothers

'The Perfectionist' Compton Wright

Such promise and truth in poetry
That I stand by it with great honor
Hold it like a medal like a soldier
As I hold my poetry journal like
The Old and New Testament
From the hard times it brought the true me
True art in the making, above visual arts
But right next to the culture of music
Stopping poetry is like stabbing Jesus in the heart
Right on the day of Easter where he's resurrected
Let my hands bleed from the several writing sessions
Of my forever passion for poetry as I would write a list
About a million of reasons why poetry is so important
And million poets will write an epic poem collaboration to save it
Just ask them, ask how it better their lives and knowledge
As it opens doors upon the living and resurrecting the dead
At the end of the day as I brag and boast about my love for poetry
Its stays with soul as the afterlife will have an angel’s poet in their doors
Born writing as an infant and dies written in my many epitaphs
From my family to all the way to my readers written sweat and blood
As it’ll say on my tombstone and also in my casket…
God look what you created! An outcast with now a destiny
With a purpose to write poetry in your name and your children as well
As this kind of love for poetry takes…Dedication! ! !

“The Prophet” Leland Wright

Dedication, literary having guards across you for liberation
From the critics who bash this art, and points at you anticipating
For you to slip and discredit your skill, then try to clone your will
Then say you have no passion; you’re just trying not to unmask your tactics
They sink there teeth in your poems for any flaw, so vile
Eyes flinching at the sight of people hating your style
Claims that your poems are obviously weak and you should throw in the towel
But I refuse to; I got the dedication, premeditation on my vowels
Trying to paint a picture so vivid, livid, so no one will nitpick it
It is so much the mouth can go, speech is the way you’re going to dismiss critics
And even if they don’t go, you’ve already grown, out of your tombstone
The moon still glows and the sun still shows your shadow
Dedication outlines your aura, now you’ve grown stronger than a Flora