I am not a poet but I wake up early in the morning Just to listen to the sound of the birds outside my window While my thought turns to you, with images of a naughty school girl I drop down my ideas here and there I hope of releasing my inspirational thoughts without giving up My entire self-worth or lower my self-esteem With each tweets the birdies makes, It reminds me that anyone can be a poet, Which each sipped of coffee that slowly touch my lips I can actually feel the adrenaline surging through my body Word, words, ideas, idea, this sense of rush My entire self-worth, my self-esteem, perseveranceβ Always reflects back to my naughty school girl experiences
Then I remember why I am not poet, because my words are considered to be a deadly weapon like the relentless heat of the desert. Inducted to be worst summertime madness Even for a poet.