We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering- these are noble pursuits, and necessary to sustain life. But poetry- beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?
Count your lucky stars with your fingers, then break them.
The melancholy rush washed over me like a past regret. How I lack sun, and a straight road framed by power poles and mountains. I just saw in a movie, what I had once dreamt about. We like to set things on fire. Riverside looks nice. I am restless to lose myself, and for greyhounds chasing the sun in the West.
I still swear back then, that I knew that I know nothing.