Poetry Night by Antoh
I sit by the balcony ,waiting for the sun to kiss the horizon bye

I await to see the night hug my day with dark hands

I love the evening breeze blowing my skin gently 

Night has come ., a time to hold my paker pen

In the night I love to see ink run for the other end of the ink tube

Ink needs freedom; to rest in eternal love with my papers

It’s a poetry night
I don’t want a lamp above my head

I don’t want light shining on my ink

Ask me why?

I hate writing during the day

Am a “writing-dead”

It’s at night when I wake from my “grave”

It’s at night when all is silent 

So silent it gives the perfect peace of mind I need

In the night am all weak ,just a pen I need

It’s poetry night
My nights I give to my paker ink

Lead me through till my ink dries on my papers

I will follow my hand and mind’s work  

For it’s I got to smile about

Its all I owe my nights

Give a read ,this I plead

Tonight you might be my character

To be built with metaphors and similies

To be broken with my phrases

Still you’ll be my character

Just be still and sleep as I think of what to write

It’s poetry night





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