The Night Time Poet

By Mike Defendant

 

The Night Time Poet strikes again, back from the dead revived by the pen. Always thinkin' writin' it down. Ya know he's the eyes and ears of this town. He wanders the streets when it gets late. His only inspiration is decided by fate. He's studied the mountains, he's studied the sand. He knows the whole country like the back of his hand.

He's got no family, he's got no friends, alone with his journey and it never ends. He can never stop the words within his head. Rattling around and they'll be with him till he's dead. Not just a burden but his passion as well. He's in love with every word that he casts like a spell. He wrote about kids, he wrote about a wife. He dreamed of having everything but poetry is his life.

City to city, state to state, he spreads his positivity it would make you feel great. Some won't get it but others already know, making others happy is what makes the words flow. He has his own problems but he left them behind. All he has are words now, left in his mind. He sits against his tombstone, he dug his own grave. He wrote his own obituary, its something you should save.

It was a blessing but also a curse, he's teaching a lesson, how to live by the verse. Every morning as the sun starts to rise, he hops in a box car and closes his eyes.

He wakes up on the other end of the tracks. He'll find a place with poetry where he can relax. He writes his words but its nothing he will say, he sits by quietly till he fades away.