Breadcrumbs

When we were children, we used to go to the park
that had a small like and feed the duck. A trivial pursuit
a the park was for the benefit of the people
and the local authorities paid for its upkeep.
This couldn't go on everything has to have a purpose,
so it was bought by a private firm fenced in and a gate
it cost to feed the ducks.
I should know writing poetry which is trivial and few
publishers take me on, then my risk of losing money.
As few poets make money and have few readers
yet poetry is the few places left where one can express
thoughts not accepted elsewhere.
Success is judged by “best seller books”, they might be crap
but reflects the time we live in.
As for the ducks, they have mostly flown away to find
a less obnoxious place to get their breadcrumbs.