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Sep 2020
The messenger must be ready
To pack his bags and leave.
He will not cling to useless weight,
His message is too sweet.
He will not stop to catch a breath,
He cares not for his needs.
He runs to tell of what he knows
— A poet with his feet.

The soldier stands in shining mail
And seems, of men, the best.
Because he stand on guard all night,
The citizens can rest.
He has no need to question if
He’ll pass the final test.
In bravery he'll meet the foe
— A poet with his chest.

The farmer tends his crops and reaps
The produce of the land.
He plows the field and tills the dirt
According to his plan.
His yield, year round, is sustenance
For animal and man.
He helps the tender seeds to grow
— A poet with his hands.

The scholar can by careful thought
Reveal the source of rain.
He takes a youth with passions wild
And makes him wise and tame.
O’er books and notes he slaves all night,
Our hearts and minds to train.
In gold he never found his wealth
— A poet with his brain.

The poet fills a simple verse
With wisdom to the brim.
He feels within his breast that beauty
Is his closest friend.
Where does the humble poet fit
Among these noble men?
The poet, with his measured words,
Is all these with a pen.
Written by
Skyward  23/M
(23/M)   
318
   Skylar
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