Please, please do write.
Just a little I beg of you.
When you silent your ink,
What would happen to injustice? .
Yet your fingers should not rest,
For if so is done....what would keep
The needy company in dreaded time? .
Our heads are good a valuable matter,
Beyond all materials amidst our gem.
It is a pity poets are not reckoned with,
But our precious heartbeats revive lives.
Please do write! Poets of our time,
The inks are left to dry,
And many soul need the flaring ink
Our scorching fingers to comfort them.
Poets please write before we are no more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice plea to poets to write.