Euticus MolaMaybe I am not a poet
and this is not poetry,
all I know is this piece
of me is now out for you to see.
I want you to love me
feel that you understand me
So i write in verse
with no reference to rhyme
for rules were made to be broken.
Maybe I am not a poet
and this is not poetry,
just words drawn from the lips of angels
inscribed in the wings of eagles
Carried by whispers in the wind
An expression of my inner soul.
Letters inked in the blood
drained from matyrs of the pen
slained by the sword of ignorance and spite
now the pen must show its might.
Maybe I am not a poet
and this is not poetry,
just Shakespeare’s side notes,
lyrics to the melodies from David’s harp
the unsung hero of Soul’s inner peace
the remaining verses to the songs of Solomon.
Romeo’s last words
inscribed in the stars
Forever immortal.