UNcredible

A beautiful woman sat alone in a cafe
The light from her soul dimmed
An opened notebook and pen lay before her
Tears slowly fell down her cheeks
I approached and asked "Babygirl, why do you cry?"
She said, "My pen has ran out of ink."
I tried to lend her mine and she smiled
"No, you miss UNderstand. My Bic is new but my pen is dry.
I no longer have the desire to write, and I don't know why."
She went on to explain that she felt her words didn't touch anymore
When she read, she no longer heard feet tapping on the floor
Snaps in the air or shouts of "Encore!"
The love she used to feel from her poetic family that used to come in droves
had slowed to a drip and she couldn't take it no more
Saddened I pulled up a chair and shed a tear
And maddened I grabbed her pen and took it apart
And I explained
"You should never write for acclaim
Fame should never be your aim
Poetry heals all, not superficial applause
Like Smokey said on Friday God put this here for YOU
And though the world may not show its appreciation
Always know that your words have touched one if no one else
YOURSELF
As for this pen, out should flow creativity, passion, pain
And so I shall fill it with things that will inspire you again."
After a short while, I returned to my seat with a refilled utensil
"Inside I've placed sunshine, sweet music, darkness and the tears from a child
A few butterfly kisses, the essence of sex and a little bit of everything else"
Delighted, enlightened and her 3rd eye's vision heightened
She gently tapped the pen to mix its contents
I saw her light grow brighter
I knew this one was a fighter
And I left her to her renewed fire
But before my hand sounded the bells on the door
I turned and said, "Always remember, you are UNcredible."