Little Poet

There is a little poet
Buried behind my chest
He sings to me in colors,
My little guest

His voice rises
Carries a soft tune
Green leaves and red birds
Leave to follow him soon

Words he exchanges
With the world outside
He sings secret songs
I try so hard to hide

Beautiful music
Beautifully coming
Listen to my skin
My insides are drumming

A drunk sailor weeping
At the bottom of my dream
Rose to the sound
Of a rising scream

In my mind
A storm, a flood
On my tongue
My poet’s blood

Now white essence
Knees on the floor
Calls for the man
I was before

Slowly my fingers
Write and erase
Slowly my memories
Poetry replace

2 thoughts on “Little Poet

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