To Be A Poet Poem by Tony Adah

To be a poet is no small trade
As to pluck a pie hanging in the sky
And thus command the sun not to shine
But the moon to shine.
It doesn't matter
When the stars twinkle no more
And bear their tears in our eyes.
Which is better?
To spill some ink
Or to shed a tear?
When a criminal is exonerated
And the exonerated is a criminal
What's justice itself?
When a few wigged sages
With the heart of man sit in a hallowed chamber
To decide the fate of the world?
And the poet sit back
Head in the cups of his hands
Or hands at akimbo
The poet speaks even in a death-row
Not to the world but to those
Who care to hear
And I am a poet
Walking on the edge of a knife
The world has honed