mold your words
according to ~ them
shape your style
until soothing to ~ all
~ obey the censor
~ listen to the critic
~ worship the masters
~ please the crowd
~ appease tradition
why not ~
coagulate
your words
as
blather
burbling
of irrelevance
spoken in tongues
undistinguishable
and meaningless
as the cry
of the
lone wolf
obscured
by the
howling pack
fuck no ~
~ no way
~ I,
me
that poetic artiste
will not surrender
my soul
embodying
the spirit
of my novelty
bestowed
upon my words
for the short-lived
perversions
laced within
the devil’s brew
condemning me
forever
to the fire
of mediocrity
~ I write,
my words
of thought
expressed
through,
my style
of words
only so,
others
may discern
my words
as being,
~ unique
and distinctive
as the cry
of a
newborn baby
from within
the buzz
of the throng
peace out
Words by ~Keith Alan Hamilton~