“Poetry, poetry,
what have you brought?
Inspiring phrases,
ideas,
or thoughts?
Give to me clarity
so I may see
the path of the task
within which I am caught.”

“Poetry, poetry,
why am I here,
enduring the struggles,
misfortunes,
and fears?
How have I wandered nigh
to the world’s end?”
I bask in the light
and behold, you appear.

“Little man, foolish man,
what could you need?
I opened my wellspring
so that you
would heed
voices of wisdom, sent
from me and lent
for my purposes great.
Why then pay me no heed?”

“Poetry, poetry!”
flew from my tongue.
“Forgive me my trespass,
but sorrows
are hung
onto my heart, betwixt
two breathless lungs.
I want to be fixed,
for my pain is still young.”

“Sorry youth, little youth,
I can’t involve
myself with your troubles.
I only
revolve
’round the ability
to show the truth.
And able to see,
alone you must resolve.
Ask for the way and you surely receive,
knock at the door and it opens.
Look for the truth and be sure to believe,
for the answer is something to hope in.”