Song of an Ink-Stained Wretch
by Frank Coffman
Writing I chose. To be an ink-stained wretch,
Hoping to pen some Truth, some Fantasy,
Answer the Call to keep my mind full free,
Taking the “Pondering Path,” perhaps to etch
Fine lines in silver, sometimes gold—or lead.
To range around a world too wide to fetch
All wonder that might be found, but stretch
To whatever extent, by plodding, steady tread,
Experience, awakenings, vistas of awe!
Leaving behind many choices on that path;
Yet choose one must—whatever aftermath.
I am a part of all I ever saw,
And all I’ve seen remains a part of me.…
This inky River runs strong toward the Sea.