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When everything turns to nothing, I'll still be there for you.
[poem] A poet lost his pen 
22nd-Jan-2014 11:56 pm
My thanks go out to Melon, whose words of encouragement and praise did help inspire something.
Dedicated ... to "poets who have lost their pens".

A poet lost his pen
(18. January 2014)

I look up at the sky, the stars,
The trees moved by a breeze
And I feel that what once was
Inside me stirs and flees
And I feel

But the thoughts a myriad in numbers
Too many to be caught with pens
They raise the one who slumbers
And lead him sleeping to their den
And I see

Inside there's all that's kept inside
The self fulfilling prophecies that killed
And strangled any will to write
They mock and flirt and soothe so skilled
And I feel

So what if I again should live,
The sole meaning of it being death,
Would it spare me numbing pain
Or fill my life with rousing breath
And I know

A poet's a poet forevermore
‘Spite loss of pen and paper still
He'll be made sing and cry and feel
And hearts will shake him to the core
And I feel

If so he lost his writing tools
He'll etch the words into his soul
Born writers write because they're fools
Not because it relieves of dole
And I see

Words form on the restless edge of mind
As asleep he wanders foreign shores
They weep and bleed from eyes so blind
They see the hidden truths of old
And I love

So will it fell me once again
Will I get up and raise my hands
To write of what little shreds remain
Of what once was my self.
And I am.
23rd-Jan-2014 07:25 am (UTC)
Roaded on May 23rd 2018, 10:58 am GMT.