The silence of the nights
Have made me who I am
Yes, I speak with great delight
No, I’m not one of them
Yes, I am not perfect
This is how I’m supposed to be
If there is such a person
I sure would like to see
Yes, my colours are different
My thoughts can light a fire
My veins breathe uneasy
My blood is full of desire
If I had a chance to choose
To be in someone’s shoe
I would gladly toss that chance away
I would never want to be you
The sky is full of beaming stars
There is no star like me
Without me this universe
Would then so empty be

If I were born a little early
I would have made electricity
First to say — The Earth is round
Cures for diseases I would have found
Would have theorized gravitational law
Leave everyone trailing in awe
Would have had a star named after me
A constellation or galaxy
Future generations would have studied me
My brain, my life, my family
But I was born a little too late
Never had the chance to become so great
All the others took away my due
So I’m stuck here writing poems for you

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

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

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