The First Poem
We know not when
During which age or time
Where man first sought a pen
And laid out a set rhyme
An attempt to convey
What he felt in his soul
Using basic wordplay
Did he get to his goal?
For it's a lost work of art
And we never may guess
What tormented his heart
As he penned his address
But I do suppose
It would not seem so foreign
If the fount of his prose
Was the longing for a woman
The same motivation
Through all of the ages
Guided men in the creation
Of uncountable pages
Oft decried "for the birds"
He hoped his bird's a dove
In attempting to make words
Do his bidding for love