An Advice from a Wealthy Friend

A wealthy friend advises me to leave writing poetry and do something else to be rich. Poor though I am, I can't stop writing poetry.

Swindle or thieve, be rich, dear Johnny

Buddy, why do you write poetry?
What is the gain?
How much money have you made
after so much of pain?
Morning and evening, day and night,
I see you wracking your brain.

Are you running after
what they call fame?
To make to the world known
your ten-lettered name?
What’s the use of all this sweat if
it doesn’t keep away hunger and shame?

You’d be better off pulling carts
Or laboring in a piggery or a dairy farm,
Even being a clerk or a salesman
has its chime and charm.
Be a driver, sweeper or gatekeeper
What’s the harm?

What do you aim to be?
A Shelly, a Browning, a Wordsworth?
A man’s purse decides
the value of his words or his life’s worth.
If you can’t live in luxury
what is the fun of man’s birth?

Look at my profession and career.
It has given me name, fame and money.
If I may use your proverb,
It’s my river of milk and honey.
Kick away your pen and rhyming words.
Swindle or thieve, be rich, dear Johnny.

Posted in Wikinut

May 17, 2013

Xavier Bage