i am sitting alone again
they keep calling asking
but what do you really do
i am the poet
one who screams out at the injustice
the one they will execute
one who rises to arms
the one who refuses to kill
the permutation amongst the automatons
different drum, the road less traveled
but what do you really do
what are you beneath the mask
i am sitting alone again
the remover of masks
a dreamer of dreams
i am the poet
and have carried your steel 
until it broke my back
but i never knew how difficult
life could be
until i picked up this pen
sitting alone yet once again
in a solitary happiness
Tennyson's deep poetic heart
i am the poet
my job to decipher the madness
so we may see thru words
the red, red rose
what lies beneath the mask
or mask in lines
what they would kill us for


         Fergus Fall   95