Diary Of Poets

Some poets are liars,

act sad on ink

yet, in love they sink,

Pretend depressed

It's just a fable

Some poets are burglars,

they loot nature

with their inane words

I caught one with the sun 

in a graveyard lately.

Some poets are cunning, 

They'll write a love poem to Aisha 

and tell Ifemi that it's just a fiction

They know Amina doesn't

understand poetry

They're prostitutes.

Some poets are wicked,

They'll ask the ocean to 

marry their heart

and ask the moon to cry 

They'll also ask their eyes

to flood even if it didn't rain.

Some poets are foolish,

They hunt love in hell,

On suicide, they ponder

Anyways, it's not bad 

to feed death.

Some poets are Heroes, 

They impel their word squads

to massacre the blahs 

that hid the tale of truth

Such poets are unknown.

Some poets are lazy,

they can't swallow an essay

They bank on poetic license 

Yet, feeling too proud,

Imagine O'er instead of 'over '

Have you met brave poets?

Their feet and thought

lives in different places

They can explain Ukraine

just with imagination and

poetic utensils

How about Village Poets?

Be cautious with them

They can make you teary 

without any remorse

They're too tragic.

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