PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Of the new breed,

Who has seen better days

I've risen, not from ashes

But from me

The darkest me, the different side

Black clothes, long hair

That stupid sense of apathy

I am no longer that sad thing

I am new

And ready

I've stolen the artist,

As he was tortured like a wretch

I've nursed him back, granted his wish

He's here with me

And the music man, who suffered so

Underneath the stench of doubt

I've brought him forth

Showed him ways

And he's doing everything he can

Here with me

The writer had accompanied me

And for the first time in years,

He's in control

And he feels okay

Their thanks are given

Their hands are free

They journey on

With me as their company

I feel my stripes

Of black and blue

They're painted on

And they feel all right

The light that turned to fire

It's far enough away,

To warm instead of scold

And I can agree with it now

So here we've collected

Here we walk

The drawings, the notes

The poems and the love,

That's slowly mending itself

We'll keep moving

Keep trying

Hoping for something to believe in,

Just like we used to,

As we find our way to clarity.