Quill And Ink

“You are wasting your time,” he said.
What would he know?
He knows not my craft and has no interest in it.
I have no intention of explaining. ‘Tis not my place.

What he considers wasting time
Is as valuable as gold to the greedy to me.
Why does he pay any attention to my craft
When he does not want to understand it?

Is it envy? Is it boredom?
Is it displeasure with his own world?
I have no interest in his world
And would certainly not criticise it if I did.

Perhaps it is frustration on his part.
Unfulfilled dreams
Unleashed on those content with their work
And at one with their place.

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