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Plastic Ammunition
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Old
Yes... it hurts to thousands
Just to pen this.
Yes... it's tempting
Just to end this...
Complex verbs and vowels
Designed to intertwine
Around a rhyme so foul.
And such the headache
When I find
That the ending always chimes
With a predestined sound.
Ink that seeks discovery
Has been a mouse in maze -
Testing every path
To exits that were clean layed out for days.
This trail-worn tongue,
Repeating expeditions
With lyrical ambition.
Packing poet firepower
Just to discover
I hold plastic ammunition.
Here, my writer's block convenes
To clasp my lips
And cloud your eyes from what I mean.
But Jesus... I just wish to come undone and clean
And be the core you sink a ravished tooth beneath.
I wish... I wish... to gleam
For you... tonight.
Listen, please...
For just a spell longer.
I pray I can conjure you
Something stronger.
