A POET WHO FORGETS TO WRITE

A POET WHO FORGETS TO WRITE
By: Wilson Niñofranco Guntang

There is a poet and his poems were very good
When love penetrates to his soul, writing was his mood.
As this happens he gets a paper and picks a pen,
Then he strokes for eternity for his poems have no end.

A valley of colors for each poem which to other might be worthless,
But for him it's all precious jewels - a treasure that is priceless.
He thought all colors were good and never anticipated
That a certain color would visit him that leads him to be frustrated.

On the day when he was starting to write,
There was no sign of inspiration he could find.
Then sadness covered him and blue on his face,
This was the color that came without a trace.

It came to pass and for years writing he has forgotten,
Like a buried treasure that the pirates had stolen.
Frustrated to write again but his poems he can't complete,
Yes, it's true and sometimes he forgets to eat.

Who is this man whose heart wasn't free?
And to be a poet again is all he wanted to be.
It might be confusing but I hope you see
That this poet was no other man but me. -- author

Silver-tongued Poet
07.03