Let’s the party started!
It all started on the beginning
from the first syllable to the last dot.
Sometimes things aren’t working as they should,
another rumpled paper and again, bad mood.
Your Muse is laughing from her corner:
scream at me for a bit longer.
I will get closer
so I can kick ya,
as we Muse always do.
But maybe I will caress you better.
Because, you know,
poems can’t be written by standing on your legs
and kicking to ass can be a little ouchie.”
Let’s return to the start,
to the very first of lines.
There’s the beginning of all…
…of the first and last poem, ballad, or a prayer.
The scene has been prepared
for a poor poet.
The poem is at its finish
and it’s time to raise a voice.
To let them know:
About all of its efforts, pain and suffering.
All of its injustice in making progress.
All of its fails.
The poem is at its end,
and poet as well.
The curtain fell
and no one gets a hurt.
The poem made it,
as well as poet- magician of the words.