The Day of My Execution

All well known and less popular poets
We're waiting for the day of my execution,

I didn't kill or betrayed anyone's personal life,
Or even about disagreeing of their own writings.

My crime was that my writing never rhymed,
They were like the tears of a poor girl crying all night.

Famous poets have thrown me in jails without
Courts, not even with a pen or a few maple sheets.

So much of sorrows, destroyed my hopes in life,
My grandpa's soul was my only unseen friend in jail.

I spoke to him whenever they took the drinkable
Water away of my throat, and replaced by a poison.

One poet spoke to me, read of my collections too
Save your life of death, such a funny man he was indeed.

A minister of poets, asked me if I have a word to
Say, before all poets shot me with their guns dead forever.

My heart started screaming so my tears started
Moaning, they came out of my two eyes and offered me

Their life, therefore I could survive and open my eyes
To realize that I have been already dead after my first poem.

13/03/2015