I was fast asleep
some stranger knocked at my head
I woke up and saw nothing
in the darkness
but my head was wet.
I may have perspired
in fear
But no I was only dreaming my dear
Of a life on a desolate island
all sand around
no one one to be found
I dreamed of becoming a poet
and lo and behold
I found myself near an oasis
palm trees swayed
I gazed
sweet ripened dates
fell on my head
I ate
then composed poems
on so many subjects
and became a Poet
Now all call me PP ME
all poets of PH know it
I have become a product
of a broken dream
I now hold on to all my dreams
A poet can never one be
if he cuts his own wings
So now I fly
I swim
I compose poems
and so many say
read POET POET
and you now know
Who
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poet can never one be if he cuts his own wings so make the wings of wisdom and fly high, feel poetic freedom