I Was Once a Poet

I was once a poet weaving the lines of joy like a love-striken damsel, Hoping the day would never come when the cock would crow three times, I was once a boy dreaming dreams of a blissful life, Scorning the past snake bites and regretful sighs That could bid me walk a cautious road. Alas, joy lasted until sunset when the masquerade wore its true garb And began the evil dance beside my bed chamber So sleep took a forceful flight and the boy finally became a man, And the pretended bliss hurriedly gave its seat to grief. I was once a believer in the pigeon's song, The sweet melody of a hungry cat trying to lure a mouse to its gory end. But now I throw my ink and my dreams, I burn the scrolls of my schemes, Ready to walk the rugged path. I was once a poet But now I a man again, A much learned man.