Let us say, for the moment, that poetry saves lives. Then, let us imagine a world in which only those who can afford to pay for it, are able to go on living. Meanwhile, old people and young, children and in between, are dying everywhere — all for the want of poetry.
Some will shrug and say, That is the way of the world.
And others will say, It’s only poetry — not food, or water, or medicine.
November 30, 2021
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Categories: New Poems & Pieces
Tags: Blindness, Diaries, Hunger, Journals, Money, Pandemics, Poetry, Poverty, Selfishness