I ponder on why I picked poetry,
Cause I want to sigh in solitude?
With ink as my violins bow,
Songing to my writhing soul imbued
to wring my wineful groans,
Do I fear a violent foe?
Have I turned to this because of what I am teared by?
Rotten words clotting curdling inside my throat
then spat like whirlwinds of broth that\'s churned
with beef, mash and hurt speaked in minor loads.
Could be