Saturday, December 3, 2011

A poets vault


There’s a poets vault,
In it a million rhymes and charms,
Only the poets they fault,
Then perish with legs and arms.
But maybe little of a legend lies,
Though seek with open eyes.

Worthy writers do search,
On the only vault they hope,
The words of ease can perch,
And in a poets darkness grope.
To reach and smash book shelves,
But never true feelings they delve.

The amateur poet pens down,
Unleashing the words he writes,
But inspired by the suns crown,
His rhymes and charms take flight.
Digging deep and deeper still,
Yet just poems on a window sill.

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