A dearth of verse
Makes me wonder
Whether my inner life
Is playing second fiddle
To putting myself on the stage
I’m living in interesting times
And putting my shoulder to the wheel
Leaving precious little time
For introspection
Or verse
But I’m bottling up less
Speaking up and plainly
Maybe that’s why verse has subsided
Perhaps some inner tension
Has subsided too
Poets die younger
Performers live longer
To my surprise
I’m currently happier performing
Than turning terse into verse.
Achilles & Aristotle 