We created a garden out of poets
placed letters to sprout words and sentences.
Each poet wrote with fervour and conviction
one said he saw angels in his sleep,
another claimed to be a devil in torment,
a woman came by and said she rhymes her poems.
Most mocked the poet who kept to himself
and claimed to escape his prison
to create a sanctuary.
They felt his talent threatened the crop
they wanted him out, exiled
but no matter how hard they tried
to kill his psyche
he always sprouted a new poem
that left them envious for his fall.
Plot and scheme. Point fingers at him.
Until their sheet of lies became
truth. They convinced themselves
of their deceit. But the poet found
a fresh crop of poets in a hidden garden
where they planted words
and treated them as jewels.
The others possessed one object
that the poet could never hold. It was hidden
under their crops, it gave them fuel
it whispered secrets, it fed them poison
to continue their decent into killing a soul
with no water. The poet knew where the
snake lived, but he never gave it
ammunition nor guns. He fought his own
The battle never ends with angels and devils
The poet keeps on writing.