Poor, poor poet of the people,
Your words will never reach them.
Your rhymes, however sly and clever,
Will never ever teach them.
Only few will find in you
The splendor of your genius,
The rest will do their best to dodge
The knowledge that you bring us.
The world has thrived without you,
And also has been fouled.
Your pen, however powerful,
Is lost inside the crowd.
You'll never change the world with wit,
Or wonders on a page.
And time will only make you,
A far forgotten sage.