poetry collection 2

The story continues

I hear a voice talking to me

A voice from inside of my head

it asked why I stop writing poems

When there’re still so many things to be said

At first, I thought that it was my imagination

So, I pay no attention and just try to ignore

But this voice was very demanding an answer

And it was getting louder than it was before

It got so loud, it gives me a headache

So, I went to the drug store to buy a bottle of Motrin

And I took four and when I thought the voice was gone

The darn thing just came right back again

And it keeps on asking me for a reason

why I have all these poems overcrowding my brain

Telling me that I need to start writing ASAP

So that the new ones can come to me again

But I just don’t have that desire again

my hands and my heart are just tired

So, I put away my poetic pens in a draw

Thinking that my storytelling days has expired

But still, this voice won’t leave me alone

It wants me to unlock my pens

And I try to it the best that I can

But now I guess it’s there’s no use fighting it

so, I just in my car and drove out to the country

and now I am sitting under a big Apple tree

on a hill as the leaves blow in the wind

some said that my poems are a blessing and a gift to me

so, I pick up my pens again from the draw

and with my writing pad

and just like a river the words just began to flow

and where the inspiration will take me

I really don’t know

But I began to write about love

And the majesty of a woman heart

How a man must love and respect his woman

And cherish her love from the very start

Then I write some funny poems

About Adele and Prince Harry and Meghan

Trying to bring a little laughter into the world

Because laughter is the best medicine

I always try to make people smile

because the world is full of so much sorrow and pain

I like to shed some sunshine in their lives

Even if it will leave me standing in the rain

With my poems, I try to shine a light on the world

While I silently sit alone in the dark

And I am not sure if my poem will light the fire

But I am sure that it would create a spark

Then I write about the only woman that I ever love in my life

How many years ago I miss the chance

And I write about the beautiful island of Trinidad and Tobago

And a poem for my mother and father

Then I put my pens and note away

As the breeze blows on my face

And I went down to my car

And I drove home enjoying the scenery of mother nature

and for the next week or so

I didn’t pick up my pen again

Then one night while watching Netflix

this freaking voice starts calling in my head again

This time it was telling me

that a storyteller I can never extinguish the creative fire

And that the stories must continue

Because a poet can never retire

But right now, I’m going take a walk by the deli

And drink a beer under the gazebo

And then I will pick up my pen when I reach back home

And I will write as I have never written before