What will the poet write today
As he unfurls this modern play
Will there be lines all filled with song
With words that carry the day along.
And subject matter, what will he choose
Romance and stars or peoples’ blues
Or will perhaps he strive to change
The thoughts of men whose minds are strange.
For can a man with written word
Effect such change from the absurd
When those who clamour and give voice
Are never listened to by choice.

Thus poets make their metered point
Whilst soldiers in baptism anoint
And innocent ones fall to the sounds
Six pounds of pressure to fire the rounds.
Meanwhile in safety shouting still
Elected ones test soldiers will
And so the poet writes this down
His tear-filled eyes and furrowed frown
As he relates insanity
For words are that which sets him free.

©Joe Wilson – Before he puts pen to paper…2017