'A man should write to please himself,' <br /> He proudly said. <br />Well, see his poems on the shelf, <br /> Dusty, unread. <br /> <br />When he came to my shop each day, <br /> So peaked and cold, <br />I'd sneak one of his books away <br /> And say 'twas sold. <br /> <br />And then by chance he looked below, <br /> And saw a stack <br />Of his own work,--speechless with woe <br /> He came not back. <br /> <br />I hate to think he took to drink, <br /> And passed away; <br />I have not heard of him a word <br /> Unto this day. <br /> <br />A man must write to please himself, <br /> Of all it's true; <br />But happy they who spurning pelf-- <br /> Please people too.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poor-poet/
