The moment I became a warrior

3 o’clock was the time
I secluded into rhyme
3:05-  I’m alive
& I’m ready to survive

I hold my pad now I’m ready
And my pen I hold it steady
Blank page is a starve
As on the heart do I carve

Letters grouped just like a herd
Cannot mean what is inferred
Put aside what you are eating
And try some spoken word

I speak to you through words
“A language of the birds”
I say this as I note
The marvel of the throat!

And the waves as they sway
You hear what I say
From distance and from near
Ah! The marvel of the ear!

As you try to make the scene
And figure what I mean
All these things combined
Make me marvel at the mind

There must be something there
A justified affair
A truth that can be found
Simple yet profound

Words are not ignored
On the threshold of your Lord
So give all that you can
With all you can afford

I impart you some advice
What you speak think it thrice
Whatever poem that you make
It should always taste of cake

I seek not to undermine
Your intellectual spine
Only add to the savor
Of my “spoken word” flavor

As my weapon struck the chord;
As the lion as it roared
My paper now my shield
And my pen- now my sword