March of the Poet

Words on the pageYeah, they made senseHeck, they even had a little flow at the endBut who am I writing for?Some narcissistic group of force-fed clones?Where were they back when it was just me?Back when there was nobody screaming my nameI was alone with my 3-ringMan, I remember how it used to feel,when I’d make that pen sing!Sometimes I contemplate my fateDid I sell my creative soul for a taste?Just to chase the dollar signYeah, I won’t lieIt can consume at nightSuccess is a double-edged swordBoth promising and debilitatingYet, I march onWords on the pageYeah, they make senseHeck they even have a little flow at the endAs I peck each keyI’m writing for humanity.   _____________________________Photography: Photo by Patrick Tomasso on Unsplash