My mind is on a poetic fire
And right here, right now,
I'll write until Shakespeare
Becomes rain and falls down.
My hands are on a mission
And I won't quit right now.
For I'll write without season
Until I become very known.
My imagination right now,
Is already at full throttle.
I'm afraid it might just blow
Up like a very hot oil bottle.
My mind and every fiber
In my oddly wired brain,
Is set on a hot poetic fire,
I'll gamble with words till I win.
IBPoetry©
4/17/2018
This mission ends when I die.