Master Stories

What happens when the puppet master dies?When there is no one else to pick up the strings.What becomes of us dear puppets?Now that nobody wants to play.As dust gathers upon our still frames,As termites, eat away at the forgotten stage,Will someone please take us away?We forgot what it was like to feel a sun’s ray.When our dear puppet master dies,Won’t you take his place,Just as he took the place of the one before him?Insp...

My poetry emanates from The Supreme Being God Poetic ink flows through my Veins And my heart is wrapped Like letters That has been written Permanent Poetry is like a compass That a pirate uses To find his treasure Poetry makes me yearn And reach for the highest Altitude of my potential I serve poetry And poetry serves me well I ask the master to teach me The student to write Poems as if they were Psalms and Proverbs Poetr...