Where would this world be without a single poet?
So many emotions and so few ways to show it
Would expression fall out of our daily lives?
Feelings becoming countless ice cold knives
How would we get a fiery point across?
Just giving opinions up as a loss
Or would we sink in to a monotone?
Our words just a senseless grown
Where would all the silent voices fit in?
Too much of a speech, spread to thin
Who would be the one to tell all?
When there isn’t any way to enthrall
What would the people do?
With all our decrees and thoughts askew
How would we climb out of the ruthless pit?
To make it to freedom with just our whit
Might we start the gears of rhythm turning?
And get the dancing of our minds churning
How would we get the meter to move?
When there is no former grove
Could we get the symbols showing?
And all the metaphors flowing
Would we weave in allusions?
And come to many conclusions
Can we continue fighting?
To keep our voices within our writing