POEM: Once A Fool

Fool’s Gold
By Mark Cantrell

 

 

If you want to make a mint

In the midst

Of a gold rush,

Don’t dig yourself a hole,

Sell the shovels,

And the props,

To the saps in the pit.

The same applies,

It must be said,

To those poor deluded souls

Who dream of literary gems.

There’s no gold in them there slush piles,

But sell ‘em a pen,

Some paper,

And a pocketful of hope,

Then there’s a penny or few to be made,

Out of literary fool’s gold…

Mark Cantrell,

Stoke-on-Trent,

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