I looked at the mirror and I saw
Someone else staring back at me
The face was similar to mine but
It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me
There was guilt all over his face
It was plain and obvious to see
Lies dripping down from his lips
It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me
Regret hanging from his brows
Deceit circling wild and free
Wings of envy on his nose
It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me
Then I looked at him even closely
Those eyes of sin and misery
That look was indistuingishable
It must be me, it must be me
Is it my love for writing
Or my love for rhymes?
Not sure what has kept me going
Through these wonderful times
Is it the chance to touch
And make merry somebody’s heart
And know I’ve made a difference
Possibly with my art?
There may be many reasons
Possibly a hundred or more
One thing is for certain
Of that I am very sure
Without my faithful readers
This I could not have done
Thank you for always being there
Thanks for making it fun
A hundred poets reside in me
A hundred? I don’t know why
One just writes what he can see
Two is bold, Three is shy
…
Forty Four can get no rhyme done
Twenty wants to plagiarize
But is held back by Sixty One
Who wants to win the Nobel Prize
…
Then there’s Thirty Six and Eight
Who are too lazy to write
Unlike Seventy who sits late
To finish his sweet song at night
…
Then there’s Twelve and Ninety Four
Who always have a fight
They can’t seem to agree anymore
About which girl they wish to write
…
So many more on this list
Like Fifteen, Sixteen, Eighty Three
One of them just wrote this
A hundred poets reside in me
All my ventures have failed to pay
None of my debts seem to go away
From all directions, troubles come
I’ve lost my cars and my home
Now we live in a rented place
Whenever I’m out, I hide my face
Still the kids they laugh at me
My clothes are drenched with misery
All my shares have fallen
Last week my watch was stolen
I think I’ve forgotten how to smile
For I haven’t done it in a while
No family I can fall back upon
All my friends have moved on
Just me and my misery and my strife
And my lovely, luckless wife
I wish sometimes that I were dead
But my luck is just too bad
God doesn’t want me with Him so soon
I, the husband of Misfortune
I have a little garden
A garden full of words
Prose they act like flowers
The poems act like birds
It blooms the whole year ’round
Whether spring or snow or fall
For reading is like rain
And sunshine for them all
Never a dull day I’ve had
Never have a dull day I will
For years and years from now
This garden be growing still
Yes I want to be a poet
But haven’t had my heart broken
Never felt the touch of love
Or had a sweet word spoken
Yes I want to be a poet
But never had a point to savour
Curse me someone with your love
Come and do me a favour
Never ever have I seen a dew
Or watched the falling snow
Never ever have I tamed the wild
Or gone where the winds blow
Never ever have I fallen in love
Or lost my way in a storm
Never ever have I climbed a mountain
Or seen a true beauty’s form
Never ever have I played a song
In front of a jumping crowd
Or sailed on a magic carpet
And jumped on a smiling cloud
So much more I may have never seen
Never heard or never done
So much more I may never say
Never dream or never learn
Yet all these things I have sensed and felt
Though it is not exactly how it looks
In a world I made for myself
With words coming out from books
Every book that I read
Every movie that I see
Every song that I hear
I let it change me
…
Every person that I meet
Every event that I partake
Every emotion that I feel
I let it change me
…
Like a snake
Shedding its skin
Only to cover itself
With a new one
To let go
Of the parasites
To reach
A new stage of growth
…
Every step that I take
Every choice that I make
Every breath that I take
I let it change me
If my words could speak
What my heart yearns to say
All the feelings I cannot leak
To you I would convey
…
If my words could reach
The heavens in the sky
To you would come then each
Where you so gently lie
…
If my words had powers
To bring you back to life
I would write for hours
With no fatigue or strife
All this while I never knew
The giant hole I’m into
Cover of darkness all around
No way to go. Up or down?
Left or right? Or straight across?
How eyes can guide when faith is lost?
Because I was resting in your lap
No noise could bother me, my nap
No light did touch me when I slept
No harm did try to have me wept
No darkness ever greeted my eyes
Except for the shade of paradise
Now you’re gone and I have found
No place to sleep on thorny ground
No sword to fight my war for me
No shield to save, no armoury
The only comfort in this hole
Your memory makes it beautiful
