WE ONLY WORK WITH WORDS

We only work with words,

We poets do,

To sing,

To draw,

To point,

To link,

To loosen that which must be free.

We only work with words,

We poets do,

As best we can,

As they come

As they go,

Or stay,

Emblazoned on our souls.

We only work with words,

We poets do,

So variable,

So insensible,

So certain,

So unsure,

So real,

So lying and yet, because...

We only work with words,

We poets do,

We love,

We laugh,

We sing,

We praise,

We demand,

We defend,

And sometimes...

We fail.

For...

We only work with words,

We poets do,

And words are clay, which,

Though molded properly,

And sure and glistening at first,

May slump or turn drab,

In the heat of day and sight of men.

We only work with words,

We poets do,

And ask the reader to read,

What was in minds and hearts,

When set upon the page,

With eyes like ours,

Who saw the sun and sky,

And tried to sing its praises,

But missed the mark.

So too, with love, and honor, and courage...

Read our tales with piety and pity,

For the round-shouldered scribe,

Trying to make beauty out of letters,

For...

We only work with words,

We poets do,

And must leave the living,

And understanding of our work

Up to you.

• Donovan Baldwin