PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Stranded on the isle of righteous indignation

Where the main source of food was self-sophistication

Indigo was indeed the state of nation

The air was already blue I had to be cool with my situation

If knowledge of self is the sea

How much salt did I take in?

Will it be me the heart attacks?

Is love to my heart attached?

Or to the notice board of my soul a tack

Pinning memories of what I could have had

Should have had

Could’ve been

Where ever I am now I call it the Caribbean

For I have to carry on being

Carry on being he who each day climbs the tree of prosperity

Trek through the heathen

Transforming barren hillsides into gardens of Eden

Preparing for eve when

It isn’t even the season for her to arrive

You see faith brings that once in a while plane in the sky

But unless you signal it

You’re responsible for homicide

A corpse called hope will wash up on the shores of your mind

Daily arrest for the crime

How will you break free if eve doesn’t reach this isle?

Chop down trees with a nail file

Row with Guile across the sea

Till mirages you’re no longer seeing

Even if your’ Eve never arrives

You can say no matter what

You were the Caribbean