I know one day she will say "I knew a poet"
I knew a poet once who had an abstract imagination
Who told stories in jingled verses
Who built empires with his paper and pen
Again and again spilling the beans right in the streams of my emotions
A poet who stood shy in his own corner with a couple of unattended emotions
In his bag
Dressed in baggy sags torn pieces of the world
He had tales even his pen wouldn't tell
I know one day he will say "I knew a poet"
I knew a poet who moved mountains for a girl
But never was his efforts appreciated
Who never took life seriously
Found humor in heartbreaks and bleeding souls
Who was mad dead in the expressions of the edges of the world
You knew well how he fished spirits in the deep oceans of life
Sliding his pen lazily on his paper and making a thought
A poet who let his pains disguise in his convincing smile
Breathing life into tired thoughts
But still he had tales his pen wouldn't dare tell
For his pen feared what he would tell
And never got the ink to.................