Aspirations

Words written, foolish things,

placed upon the blank sheet; a

humming poet becomes an artist

selling canvas upon a busy street.

Waiting an eternity to have the

painting bring a price; giving the

poet time to write.  Not wanting

praise, but to give meaning to the

hunger days, rhymes read, know

that there was delight when someone

liked to read the stories, this would

be the poets crowning glory.

Recognition of the long days and nights,

living with hunger and fright, to write an

immortal poem remembered like an Angel’s

song, this is the poet’s wish before life is over,

before they are gone.

 

©2014.aspirations.annjohnsonmurphree

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