A free-verse poem re how hard it is for artists, including poets and authors, to get noticed and why they keep creating.

An exquisite grain of sand,
now honed to near perfection
by the action of the ocean waves’
constant polishing it for years,
lies unnoticed on the beach, lost
among the host of other grains.
Its fate is sealed by the sheer vastness
of the number of neighboring
sand grains occupying its beach.

Likewise, who notices the remarkable
blade of grass in the newly mown lawn
or the prize cow in a herd in the pasture?
The healthiest, most beautiful tree lives
and dies unrecognized in the rain forest.
In Nature even the most magnificent
of individuals frequently goes unnoticed
amongst its companions.

The competing blizzard among humans’
works of creativity causes many artists
to remain unknown regardless of the quality
of their creations. In today’s marketplace
what chance has the unknown artist
to be discovered? A poet’s or author’s
book is swallowed up among hundreds
of thousands of books published annually.
Likewise the local potter, painter, sculptor,
photographer, musician, actor, etc., etc.
has his works swamped by the many
thousands of other creations.

With any chance of commercial success
or fame so scant, why then does the artist
persist to produce creative pieces?
He continues working for the satisfaction
that accompanies producing something
that’s uniquely his own.
An artist creates for the pure joy
involved in the creative process;
unless he creates, an artist leads a life
that is unfulfilled and hollow.
A true artist creates because he must.