A poem each day kept me alive,
When left in life's ocean to dive.

The verses, long or short, did guide,
And helped me live a life oblique.

I read of living and of dying,
And learned that life is all about timing.

Though not all days are rosy posy,
Poetry made me feel all cozy.

It took me to the woods and the moon,
While I dreamed in the month of June.

The calendar sheets changed and torn,
And one fine day, a poet was born.

© Nik Celeste