What Sits On The Brink. Poem by Safiyyah Manjra

I was told one cannot make money,
Out of poetry.

Unless your poetry book is that of which is on a school's book list.
Or that of which average people cannot resist.

As the world is filled with more average.
Than the gifted.

In the end what do we all strive for?
What are we exactly after?

Is it the Honours you see on the diploma paper?
Or the green paper which you make the years after?

Is it the contentment of the heart?
The tears which come from the happiness of effort?

If you were to leave this world tomorrow,
What is one thing you could say you would miss the most?

Your work?
Your partner?
Your friends?
Or a lover?

Mine would be my ability to think and reason,
To make a life changing decision,
Be it for me or another person.

The ability to think,
Stands still on the brink of bold written ink.