a poem is what I yearn to be
after ages of being me
after being I and me and we
after turning this time machine
after having discourses unseen
after arguing and dis-arguing
after accepting all that came to me
after soliciting lives taken after me
after creating music out of a broken tree
through singing to the tunes of my sea
through flowing unabashed with time
a poem is what I yearn to be
a poem of unsung love and misery
a poem of shadows hovering over skies
a poem of rules embedded within me
a poem of ushered words lying by
a poem of desires waiting standby
a poem is what I yearn to be
when it comes to a poem’s life
life of a recluse suites just fine
for a poem is often one that lives by
one day chosen from all the days I had
at the end of the day that comes by
a poem is what I yearn to be and die…
