Poet Boy

Poet boy,

You get your ass in gear and get going,

You won't have many days like today,

When you feel that fire in your belly,

Don't put out the wind,

Ya gotta write, or you’re gonna die.

You only get so many,

So many star-filled nights where the air

Fills you like a racing hot air balloon

Only so many shooting stars

And only so many of her soft smiles,

Before that pen of yours is no more.

And there will be plenty of days to get your work done,

Plenty of movie-watching days,

Put together that blog, and do your lesson plans,

Plenty of days where that soft mind of yours

Will lazily pick the path of least resistance

Speaking three languages, you've half a start in four more,

But poetry is the one that you've worked the hardest for,

And boy if you don't claim that bride of yours,

She's gonna leave you fast,

If you don't breathe this stuff, your stuff won't last,

So get it out, exhale while you still remember the words,

Exhale before you exhale no more.