DARE I

Dare I write another poem?

What is there left to say?

The hundreds that have left my pen

won’t see the light of day.

Those thousands upon thousands

of words I have inscribed

Have fallen on no ears at all,

in cupboards they reside.

The stories and the morals

that agonized me so,

I wrote time and time again,

no one shall ever know.

The fame that once I strove for

eludes me constantly

But I still write, the cause is just,

but difficult you see.

What is a girl without sweet lips

or a man without a mate?

What is a witch without her broom

or a young man with no date?

The truth lies with poets

And ancient men of thought;

Perhaps that’s why I write these lines,

for answers that I’ve sought.

  ~Robert E. Browne~