A Poets Era Poem by Robert Roberts

They whispered as thunder clapped
and the rain fell
the bird hid as they songs
were awfully silent
nothing was said as the
television remained silent
the creatures stayed and stared
as the all stayed mouth open
pen to paper he wrote

the night were cold
and day brutal
sleep cometh not to these
eyes as my hand shake
retired from it all
fell sick as i stand tall
had to come back
said it was my last
but the mind of a poet
just refuse to quit
inspiration ran through
my veins as my body ache
the books took dust
but they story they tell
now pen to paper i see
when i write people listen
and through that peace evolves
so pen to paper its glad to say

In the dawn of my day
and the silence of the night
a poet time is never ended
cause in death our tale still tells
so my time is an era to be told
so here i go