When it comes to poetry
I feel like David
Before he went out to meet Goliath
Saul offered him his armour
His sword, his breast plate
His helmet, his shield
But in the end he refused
Saying he had not proved it
For he was but a shepherd
Not trained in the use
Of weapons of war
He took merely a sling shot
And five smooth stones
But any giant can be slain
By such a crude weapon
If the stone finds its mark
And I can offer
No grand words
No breath-taking imagery
I commend all
Who operate at those lofty heights
But I am just
A simple man
Trying to propel his point
By straight forward means
Along a straight course
Hoping to find the mark.