BY BROWN SKETCHYS
I am a Poet known to be the messenger of words, Running through the pines of caked hearts and hard leaves, Words from the Unseen unearthing the mystical songs hidden behind every smile, Unseen because my words pinch through the supraorbital eyes of the supreme To render sympathy of soft coiling tears I am a poet; the mouthpiece of the unseen, the air... My poems evoke darkness and brightness Sending an engraving message that would linger through the birth Of subsequent generations I am a Poet I paint words of reality and facts for those afar to gaze With adorable colours, I paint the reality of life on the walls of the world for the broken to read and meditate over the words. I am a Poet I diagnose the aches in the hearts of the weak and cure them with the words from the Unseen. Life indeed is for poetry for all, Making my mind and soul the pivot of my pen I lose myself and split my thoughts in the sky Writings through the Nightingale's stars sitting on the water of papyrus I am a poet, myself and my whole, Sometimes my pen bleeds the blood of motivations Other times too, my muse inspires a block stiffen heart, broken on the teeth of death, Words which gives them the great spirit of Magnificent fire, Through the wind and blaze, singing same but uprising songs, I believe I am made for the people.