Insufferable Poet
My poetry once more bruting bleak and dark
The words with a feeling desiring spark
My tears the ink in my pen
Trails of blood showing where I've been
Each syllable retched forth from my core
Once left with other's love to adore
The darkness beautifully providing
My words profound powerfully residing
A comforting light healing and soothing
Brought into my life love worth receiving
Pains now vanished for this hour to enjoyable
Leaving my pen dry and happily unusable
Alas we poets we misfits we freaks
We long for the agony and it's creative streaks
To bleed and cry on the page once more
What lengths shall we go to open this door
We hold to these vomit inducing words
We beg they cut and beat leaving their sores
Grant us the anguish to lay on the page
These words that puncture no matter their age
This is the first sunset and sunrise combined
That have trapped my words leaving them confined
My spirit is rested comforted and mellow
This soul now rests upon a feather pillow
This heart of mine now overflowing
She is stunningness something worth knowing
She being the first to allow me to forget
Nirvana the end to suffering it fit
My words my art once more loved
Than even angels that fall from above
To release them and bid them farewell
To cover and board off this creative well
My words healing for others and unrelenting
Looking into her eyes no more lamenting
Dawn has come for my painful dark song
My love for her cleansing how be it wrong
Although it makes me ill to my stomach
I'll blare words of happiness, love with this trumpet
For she the first beautiful thing I could find
To write of elation becoming happily blind
The words with a feeling desiring spark
My tears the ink in my pen
Trails of blood showing where I've been
Each syllable retched forth from my core
Once left with other's love to adore
The darkness beautifully providing
My words profound powerfully residing
A comforting light healing and soothing
Brought into my life love worth receiving
Pains now vanished for this hour to enjoyable
Leaving my pen dry and happily unusable
Alas we poets we misfits we freaks
We long for the agony and it's creative streaks
To bleed and cry on the page once more
What lengths shall we go to open this door
We hold to these vomit inducing words
We beg they cut and beat leaving their sores
Grant us the anguish to lay on the page
These words that puncture no matter their age
This is the first sunset and sunrise combined
That have trapped my words leaving them confined
My spirit is rested comforted and mellow
This soul now rests upon a feather pillow
This heart of mine now overflowing
She is stunningness something worth knowing
She being the first to allow me to forget
Nirvana the end to suffering it fit
My words my art once more loved
Than even angels that fall from above
To release them and bid them farewell
To cover and board off this creative well
My words healing for others and unrelenting
Looking into her eyes no more lamenting
Dawn has come for my painful dark song
My love for her cleansing how be it wrong
Although it makes me ill to my stomach
I'll blare words of happiness, love with this trumpet
For she the first beautiful thing I could find
To write of elation becoming happily blind
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