The Writer ( a tribute to inspire)
Upon each page, of the wisest sage, all to write and ponder still,
A shared serenade, goes on parade, whether as fiction or real.
At night by light, the struggle goes on, in a labor of such love,
As daylight to arrive, all still to survive, a hand to fit each glove.
The poet shares a rhyming line, The pen upon paper, so marked,
As a Stevenson or a Frost, despite a cost, each has still embarked.
As an artist to paint on canvas, the actor performs upon the stage,
A Michelangelo or Shakespeare, their fondest credits, both engage.
An informing of truth, not to matter how uncouth, a goal, many to send,
The celebration of joy, by each girl and boy, as a holiday is to begin.
The majesty observed, in words so preserved, of a poetry, to unfold,
A finest message received, of that conceived, its value, ours to behold.
While our days grow short, our only resort, to strive, our drive, much more,
We wish to share, in our scripts to declare, a much better life to implore.
Every gift we present, as if Heaven sent, a piece of each mind to restore,
With our demise, Before our life flies, from our hearts, sent from its core.
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