Though the day turns dark or shines bright, I write;
Though weak with toil, with a wick full of oil, I write;
Whether asleep or awake, I slip not but partake;
I’m a duty-bound flock, scribbling round the clock, with little breaks;
To clothe my desire with an attire wholly set afire;
With heightened flame of an enlightened soul, kept under control;
And fed with the coal of a clear-cut goal;
At every origination of awakened imagination, playing my role;
A sailor wading through storms of distraction with foresight;
A tailor stitching forms of ideas in shreds with threads of insight;
Ever willing to learn, grabbing my pen every now and then;
I yearn to earn the right to write in my bookish den;
From dusk to dawn, my sword stay drawn;
Ready to run through and burn aught that scorn my brawn.
Are you a poet? If you answered yes, that’s good. Do you want to make money with your pen? If you answered yes again, that’s even better.