THE POET IN ME

I had this feeling there is a little talent in everyone of us...I found the part i kept my poems and decided to flaunt it....happy reading.

POETRY

Poetry is not paltry, it is a battery

That halts more and not cut

When written within and spoken without fear but bravery

Emotions set in and the cult’s hut is hurt.

Poetry rakes their sakes in lakes of mockery

And wake them in a nursery of fake gut

With no sun to bake more cake of forgery

They gather under the general’s cap and laugh at what politics shut.






FOOTPRINTS

I raised my head up from down to see what is most vital of the trio.

My face, my name or my footprint.

With a blank face filled with low ink of confidence

A thought flew in. I must write to be right; I must write history on a blank face.

For with faces come differentiation and integration, race and trace of religion that defines man.

With a name so long and many

My ink flows with low waves of tiny, tidy tides to choose from.

For with names come association and discrimination, fame and game that separate man.

With a footprint and little ink of confidence that can’t be tamed

I hope my footprint stamp a light that shine better than a lamp

For a footprint brings recognition, that can stand the time test.