Work

The master is always at work

Guarding the fire

Changing the elements

In an eternal strife

Relentless work

Making us

The best we can be

On a Saturday

Afternoon

Up and down

Down and up

Around the town

Perfectly without

Any control

I travel around

Around before

Coming down

To face every Monday

Of my life

At It Again

Waking up after a really

Long night, that never

Ended of driving

Through the forest

I try to change

My way of working

But lost out

Now it is time

To get back and do it

Again

Travel

I love to travel

Feel the change

Going in the

Wrong direction

What would

Life otherwise be like

House of Learning

University is a strange place

Filled with books and bad coffee

I love this place and

I hate this place

A center for learning and

Madness

Sunshine and love will

Not cure this place

The Poets Lamentation

Poetry is always a lost cause

No money no readers and

Very little encouragement

We poets are like the Albatros

Free in the Wind but lost

Onboard the ship that is

The rest of humanity

So, yes Baudelaire is right

We poets are not that good

In taking a fight

But here we are

This our time

On earth