There's A Poet In my Cabinet

There's a poet in my cabinet,

And at times he shows up,

Drinks up all my liquor,

And is on my bed, throwing up.

There's a poet in my cabinet,

So lost, and in despair,

He turns dead flowers into beauty,

His poetic powers, so rare.

There's a poet in my cabinet,

He doesn't want to come out,

During the times where I need him,

He refuses and pouts.

There's a poet in my cabinet,

And alas he reappears!

Bursting with creativity,

Ready to shoot it like a spear.

He holds my hand and runs,

And jumps with glee !

Grabs my journal and my pen,

As he stares at up at me,

There's a moment of tranquility,

Yet a burst of creativity,

I begin to write,

I finish,

I read it,

Poetry.