A Poem to the Poet

my second (and last) attempt at poetry

In learning, how like a sponge
In giving, how like a cipher

You are the fabled prodigal
Upon whose back the world rests
In self-imposed and glorified agony

Who told you
that you were special?

Probably your mother

Reviews

[tworeeler]

not aimed at all poets, obviously. just the dishonest ones.