A poet writes of everything
At Muse’s behest
Not stopping to recuse herself
For mere self interest

Conflict, resolution
That poet’s readers need to know —
Not something appreciated
Much by those who find they go

In the brill’iant limelight
Of posterity
When they start to walking
The road of life with me

When one exults their prowess in
Celebrates their bold
Accomplishments this world within,
Folks feel they have been told

Nothing but the truth
Of which they so deserving be
Unadorned by any
Lender generosity

But when such see recorded
Right along with hers
More awkward and off-center times
To which some work refers

Then it is completely
The other way around —
Injustice has doubtless been
By ignorance found

(Which cannot be expected
To appreciate
Finer points of life among
The civilized and great)

Wonder if they notice
I seldom put a name upon
Those disturbing moments
I am commenting on

Most of the dedications
This poet ever makes
Have within them what to make
Happiness it takes

She’ll continue writing
She’ll continue sing
About both good and bad in life —
About everything


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