"My Verse To Find A Life"

"My verse to find a life"

A poem picture appears
Far off, standing to near
The shade another light
The critic’s eye in sight,

Wise a father in thought
His son falling far short
Dreams in thought of it
The publisher’s permit,

Not needed the face
A painting on a page
A boy weak at sports
There to be scorned,

Perhaps never born
The fear in a baby boy
Where to now to dream
The ship sailing away,

A playing field resort
Forgotten the scorn
Bright a peaked cap
A passenger in a hat.

I’ve but one shame
Surpassed all the same
Never learning a game
In verse it is the same,

To you, I’m not a fool
For being their tool
I rise to find a life
The man at last.