The Poet's Dream

[Leanne]

I want to write a sonnet of such splendour
That generations echo with my name;
A poem that would make me a contender
For lasting international acclaim.
I dream of such immortal admiration,
The world would shape itself beneath my pen;
Before their greed, the heads of every nation
Would stop to read my words and think again.
The face of poetry would bear my image,
And devotees would flock to kiss my feet;
My message would be one of strength and courage,
To make each damaged soul at last complete.
I sit to write this verse to span the years
And find my muse has fucked off to Algiers.