Poets,
Why do we write?
To calm, perhaps
Our innate fright,
To sooth, perhaps
The loneliness
That all may have
In life's distress,
To face, perhaps
The silent night
Knowing that things
Are quite not right
We write
To bring about exchange
A better World,
With cores of light,
With higher thoughts
And better sight
Promises heard,
Love's sweet delight,
To give great part of one
And then,
Ready to start,
To write again.
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