rilke, poetry, and me

In his “letters to a young poet,” rainer maria rilke wrote something like: “do not ask me, or anyone else whether your poetry is good or not. ask yourself this: if you were imprisoned, and could not write, could not create, would you die? would you not be forced to scratch your poems out on the wall of your cell with a sharp stone? because if the answer is no, then stop writing immediately. you are wasting your time, and what may be worse, you are wasting my time as well.”