Let me expound upon
The words that happened before the dawn
It was between two poets
The one who was a fretful poet
The other was a friend a brother
Who now did encourage the other.

I read my poems                                                            ­                                    
And truth be told                                                             ­                               
I think them lame                                                             ­                                   
And there is no excuse                                                           ­                             
For me to use                                                              ­                                          
Any more time                                                             ­                                         
To write one more line.                                                            ­                          

                                     ­                                                  My dearest comrade
                                                                ­                          You’re not that bad
                                                             ­                         I’ve read your poetry
                                                          ­                                And it inspired me
                                                              ­                             Don’t stop writing
                                                         ­      Because it seems no fish are biting
                                                 I don’t know why you changed your view
                                              You once were as shiny as the morning dew
                                                             ­     But do not fear for you can come
                                                            ­                     And once again become
                                                          ­    Like the person, you now do shun.

But so much work and effort come                                                             ­   
If to poetry I run                                                              ­                                
To rhyme every day                                                              ­                          
In different ways just to say                                                              ­              
How I am feeling about the day.                                                             ­     
I love the language for it is to me                                                               ­   
A form of art that I can see                                                              ­              
And form some shapes with my words                                                      
However absurd!                                                          ­                                  
To paint a picture in the mind                                                             ­           
Oh, how divine!                                                          ­                                      
But alas, it is too sad                                                              ­                          
For I feel as though I am bad                                                              ­            
And I am tired of the same words                                                            ­    
Though many escape like the birds                                                            ­  
And fly away to by and by….                                                                 ­ 

                                                              ­                                 Oh dear brother
                                                                ­    Did you not hear your mother?
                                                         ­                         She did give her speech
                                                                ­    That we are to be like the beach
                                                           ­        Standing strong against the tide
                                                            ­   No matter how our hands are tied
                                                            ­                       And now comes doubt
                                                                ­ To crush thee and knock thee out
                                                        So stand strong and remember the joy
                                                   That you had with poetry like it were toy
                                                             ­                      Now pick up your pen
                                                             ­                            And go to your den
                                                             ­                   And write what you will
                                                            ­     No one could ever keep you still

And so the conversation ended
But this is for those who needed mended
A word of encouragement
For those who are in discouragement.