What good is a poet if she doesn't cry?
On her knees, begging to deities
For a life where things go right
While her heart lies bleeding on the altar?

What good is a poet if she isn't dishonoured?
Her name dragged through mulch and mud
Witch hunters set upon her like dogs
While she burns on the stake, bound, yet the audience screams for more?

What good is a poet if she hasn't lost
Beloved ones who will never  return
But still be judged for not immediately jumping into the fray
Though her body is still wounded from a thousand cuts of betrayal?

What good is a poet if she doesn't fit
Into one of these shoes that has been laid?
What good is a poet if she cannot rip
Her heart out of her chest for us to feed?

~•~