Life has much poetry--and need to write,
And help he has from man and universe,
And over and over again life tries
To render--and to justify his work.
No poet does his best when first he tries,
Nor puts his work aside because he fails,
So life too--tears a page and a man dies,
And then life tries to write over again.
Without his fountain pen--the universe,
Without his papers, now they are dead men,
Life would not have the multitudes of words