Author Information
Cut Me Deeper
Folder:
Poems About Poetry/Writing
I feel the ink flow through my veins,
After fearing it all had dried.
As once again, reality awakens muse,
When all hoping again, has died.
For a jolly poet, simply cannot write,
Unless it all goes tragically wrong.
So to hell with all the make believe...
And to hell with being strong.
I'd rather feel this release again,
As from me, this blood pours out.
A letting of this verbal plasm,
Pouring forth from an emotional spout.
A too-tight tourniquet of sorts,
Long staunched, a healthy flow.
But now, like before, it flows warm and red,
And eagerly fills again, a river of woe.
So muse, now cut me deeper still,
For we have poems to be created.
Since life prooved to us, yet once again,
The tempests will never, be abated.
