A World Without Poetry

 

What is this world

Where we have lost our poetic gifts, the bone

Set to bring us higher

We are lost

Like a dog that no longer knows how to please

And takes no pleasure in its owner’s benevolence

What is this world if

By chance or by design

We cannot transform our rage

With the use of

Words

majestic, magical, magnanimous

Words

Plucked and carefully, lovingly cradled

From the tempest and tarantella that

Only humans

Can, at once, feel and craft,

Far, far away from the fleet of baboons

Tapping furiously away

In the random attempt to reach

Shakespeare’s brow.

 

©️Vic Yeung 2021 All Rights Reserved

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