The foundations have been laid, now the money needs to be made. I want to become a full time poet; how do I make this pay? Is there anybody out there willing to offer a helping hand? If poems were worthy £1, I would have made a grand.
What is poetry worth? I know the value of words; But what hope is there for a future, When poetry is all free, just like music? We live in a changing world.
Still seeking a publisher; Still seeking inspiration. Still seeking enlightenment; Still in need of a vacation.
I write at least one poem a day; now I’m on book twenty two. I like that Twenty One Pilots song they are playing; I wish I could know what you think. What will it take to prove, That people like my poetry and the words that I use? No other job will ever inspire me, I have a vocation; This is my truth. This is what I do.
Please send a sign, or a contract to sign; It’s a sign of the times, that there is no money in rhymes. I’m not asking for much money; just enough to live comfortably. I dream of having my books published; no I’m not being funny.
I’m deadly serious; this is what I need, what I want. I want to be a poet; I will do whatever I must. My life is too short on this Earth to be lying, in the sun; I must write, I must yearn; I must believe and I must trust.
One thousand poems written; some good, some bad. But the majority are welcomed with open hands. I gave it all I had. I am still a novice; I am always honest. I am getting better with age; even if this poem doesn’t show it.
This is truth, this is real; now let it pay for my meals. I am humble before all poets; if you ask I will kneel. I will beg you to just take a look at my works; Do not judge me by just one poem. That is all I ask; Surely this I deserve.
No poet can always be perfect; My style may be different to theirs, But we are all worthy of your notice…