Wake me up from this nightmare,
This dream that seems not to end
Wake me up before I wear out of breathe,
From this virus that fill my head
Wake me up let me not sleep in death,
Find me a remedy to this threat.
Wake me with drums of celebration,
Announcing victory all over the nation.
Wake me up from this nightmare
And tell me it's a dream.
Wake me and tell me
We found the cure to end Covid-19
NB: "Me" in this context means "The world". It can also mean "any individual
A Poet is like a Photographer.
He sees the hidden beauty with focused lenses
His mind is like a plate served with films of fine art
A Poet is like a Baker.
He mixes emotional flavor and sweet imagination
He is sometimes called a poetic baker
A Poet is like a Barber.
With clips of wisdom he cut his words into a nice shave
and shapes his pieces into poetic curls
A Poet is like a Drummer.
His plays hit the strings of the readers heartbeat
with every stroke of his pen a song is gonged
A Poet is like a Talebearer
He comes with a message,
from the realms of the Poet god(soul)
A Poet is not a prisoner
Because his words
are the bars that lifts the captives
In the darkest hour while the sun slept,
I lay in my room of leaves
Another lonely day
Another lonely eve
While the cricket come to play,
And to seek a love mate,
I drifted into the deep,
The handiwork of fate.
Then morning came
As bright as a rose
I looked at my feet
And saw twenty toes
I saw a being just like me
But graceful, slender and fair,
With hairs like a river
And a beauty that burns like flares
Then she drew me closer
And whispered to my lips
'I am Eve',
'Your missing rib'.
— The End —