A Poet's Misery
The blank pages of my soul Craves for fluidity, for words Waiting for that soft trace of black For a story to unfold My voice searches for air To carry across the pain That eats my flesh inside That causes much disdain I long for the light That singular blinding ray To shed light as I play a role Inside my mind a happy day And as I search for the curtains My mind and soul combine And I ready for the clamor Poetic justice is Divine








