Once upon a time lived an outlandish lad
Poetry was his life, writing became his fad
They defined his world, his all I must add
The truest of passions and talent he had
The only endeavors that made his heart glad
Born and raised when times were cruel and bad
Facing circumstances that were extremely sad
Tattered and filthy were the cloths he would clad
Nature was his mother the cosmos his dad
Life experiences his pen the world his pad
Treated as a pestilence thought of to be mad
With nowhere to belong he lived like a nomad
Words inked with tears of blood
Flowing river into a cosmic flood
From the soul of a poet unheard
Singing his song, his soulful ballad
He was the very best poet no one has ever heard
Thou everyday struggles made his life very hard
Poetry was his only livelihood, his armor, his guard
And he sang his song all the way to the graveyard
He had the heart of a brave not that of a coward
No matter the odds he would always forge onward
Never letting life limitations to drive him wayward
Devoted to follow the path that only led him forward
Words inked with tears of blood
Flowing river into a cosmic flood
From the soul of a poet unheard
Singing his song, his soulful ballad
For poetic indulgence he expected no reward
The world only paid him complete disregard
Still his existence was not that easy to discard
His words rained like hail stones that bombard
His thoughts provoking like a physiological hazard
His themes were eccentric and concepts haphazard
His works were enchanting like a literary wizard
His were emotions fiery and stormy like a blizzard
Words inked with tears of blood
Flowing river into a cosmic flood
From the soul of a poet unheard
Singing his song, his soulful ballad
Bernard Owor Poetic Works 