We poets in our ivory towers

Sit and ponder life for hours

We write our prose with serious tones

Of love and death and darkened homes

 

Of big black holes that swallow all

Or moonlit sky’s with werewolf calls

Or long lost love , and painful times

Of childhoods lost and struggling lines

 

Sometime agonise with a line

That taxes brains from time to time

Is the writing that profound

To change the world with fist to pound

 

And when we write sometimes 

The words and metre do not rhyme 

Which makes it difficult on occasion to express ones thoughts!