I am the poem hunter
on the prowl for rhyme
hunting out verse
I do it all the time.
I'm like a serial killer
and I never ever sleep
on the look out for words
through the page I creep.
At night I come alive
as words attack my brain
I lie in a cold sweat as demons
whisper out my name.
With shaky hand I grab my pen
and scribble madly on the page
I feel like I am now possessed
full of angst and full of rage.
I hide in the shadows
nobody knows I'm there
as long as i get my verse
I neither worry or care.
So beware of the poem hunter
the bard with a voracious appetite
hunting out words and rhymes
and coming alive at night.
Kevin Halls
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beware-of-the-poem-hunter/
