RDW's poems

12- The Playwright Responds

The first rule is:  make up your mind.  Be clear.
You wish to ridicule.  Point not at me!
It was these ‘therapies’ first brought you here,
To my creations, asking that they be

Subjected to such remedies as your
Own times possess.  This incongruity
Makes ready jest, I know.  All such humour
Has served my purposes most readily –

If they were low enough.  Send me
And all my works to therapy?  You do not try.
You send yourself to me for remedy.
I grasp the heart, wrench out and hold it high!

Who came to mock, now awed in silence stands
Before eternal words pen’d by my hand.

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