A Poet's Life

Do not stand at my grave and weep If you can't offer me goodness now That I am blosoming with life ventures. The better angel of our black nature Might not know a poet but a poet lives With his life surrounded with obstacles Which seems lost and unstable to behold. A Poet sleep not but always awake Creating and cancelling lines to suit. He is here or there thinking on the Next poem to write which will educate. He is a thounsand winds that transform men, Though not present, but his words work Wonders to the eyes that behold them in open. Life of a poet is full of imagery and metaphor. A poet's life is the diamond that preserve dreams, He foresees what will happen tomorrow but Sometimes his prophesy push him to demons. The sunlight that reflect the world lies in the blissful Life of a poet who plays the tune that sweet the earth. He is the rain that showers happily but The people abuse him righteously in a glance. A poet's life is a life thinking and meditation. In life, pens are the legs, and book, a friend. Relaxation could be at flash that torture atoms. Marriage, a bed of hell buttered with fierce Hatred of a sweet bitterlove 'cause no time to love. Children, at the mercy of their own because Their father as a poet must attend to his calls. A poet's life is impeccable, Leisure admonished with wired eyes soaring for A simile that could unstable the winds that call. A poet's life has no definition of itself base on The perception of the people or the critics there. His life is the star that shines in the night to Embarrase the faceless moon and invite the darkness. The life of poets are the future hidden in the sun. Though confronted with many challenges of life But it face back on track of redeemption at dawn, Never giving in to the white motion of fear. (C) John Chizoba Vincent Voice Of Vincent 2016