A small table in the bedroom
Folding chairs in the living room
A cheap Olivetti hand me down
Sometimes it works fine

Graduating to my new office desk
Two garage sale metal sawhorses
A stained blank door panel
My wife stained, I never put up

This sustains me, keeps me grounded
So, as long as I hear all the voices
Coming from beneath the ground
Multitudes of tears, falling from the sky

Wasting my heart upon these matters
Devoted and content upon change
Until creeks rise, and hell freezes over
Shall I continue the art, of writing

Barry A. Lanier

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/b-a-matter-of-humility/