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'.

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

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