Price Of The Poet

We are supposed to be one of the loneliest animals.

With the most unchangeable facial elements.

Constant and without a solitary lament.

Yet, this leisure activity is likewise a disastrous danger.

I can expound on sentiment.

I'm not permitted to have this dance.

I can depict genuine romance's kiss.

A vibe that I should miss.

This is the cost of the artist.

I should dress in dull varieties.

Not collaborate unreservedly with others.

Talk in rhymes that just confound and address.

The most I will accomplish is a blurring impression.

I can expound on a cozy meeting.

While I should remain feeling blue.

I can compose the loveliest work.

In any case, I should tolerate the honey bees in this cap.

Such is the cost of the artist.

Everything I can offer is the composed word.

As others are truly consoled.

Watching couples stroll past from the sidelines.

I should just say these couplets are mine.

I can expound on a plentiful nursery in blossom.

Whenever my world is dim and anguish.

I can expound on the second in somebody's eyes.

Whenever my dream needs to compose another form of how my heart kicks the bucket.

I surmise I need to address the cost of the writer.