Poetry Is Infectious Poem by Kenneth Maswabi

I held a piece of poem in the palm of my mind
I was just trying to warm my unsettled psyche
I was unconsciously holding it tighter than I thought
And it stung me on the protruded aspect of my mental framework
Injecting a thousand litres of ink into my unsuspecting stream of consciousness
From that moment I was under the influence of an unknown substance
I couldn't hold my thoughts in the bowl of my head
As they slipped into the realm of imagination
Puncturing the thin layer of reality with ease
I was led into the chamber of secrets
Every thought was beaming with excitement
As I reluctantly opened the door
Into the realm of mystery
The house of poetry
Embracing the light
I was inside the gallery of poems
And my mind was ecstatic
My heart stood in total silence
As my body was undressed of all the reality
And my spirit was submerged into the insane subconscious world of poetry

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