Hush, Dear Poet!

Hush, dear poet! Listen, the whispers of moon you're like a gypsy to the world, the more they listen the more they admire your songs yet point their index and laugh at your glooms. They'd dance on the beat of your soul sounding like 'Batuta'on a wooden floor. Words bouncing back to ease their hearts. But no! They won't throw a penny because so well they'd know if you're not hungry but happy, you'll sing for them no more. Hush little poet go find your brother hold hands with the gypsy and sing of the hunger. Hunger of mouth or a heart or of bare feet or bare arms stripped of all hugs but one: Like gypsy, his violin hugging Most of you poets, are sleeping clung on your pen. Hush, dear poet go find the gypsy, your friend.