Purpose of the Poet

What can a man do

When the one responsible for him (and his mess)

Falls into horror 

When it discovers that a man can learn a language

All by himself

And never, in any rational sense,

Need to speak it?

He must not seek far

The information is all around us

If the devotion is still head strong

But, let's go past the drunkard and the wolf

I have true inverse comparisons

That will boggle and deframe the mind

Preparing it for resurrection

You

Well, to be honest and not generalizing,

Most of you

Have been looking

For a reason to live

Yet,

My reason to live

Is to find something

Once lost

Usually, a poet stops

When he reaches a conclusion

Or a perfect cliffhanger

I stop when my back breaks

But only shortly

I stop when I lose my sight

While I find someone to listen and write

I stop when I starve

And I suddenly begin to imagine

That I'm purposefully denying myself nutrition

I stop when I lose my mind

So I can think

"How shall I Poetrize this little scheme?"

I stop when I'm gone

Not from this Earth

But from this Head

And the only thing that matters

Is if you found the answer