I too have survived the aftermath
having walked in the path of Plath
experienced my very own resurrection
without the need for genuflection
Driven in all of my own nails
crucified on these poetic sails
in order to then sail all about
upon the winds of fear and doubt
Slicing myself here open wide
so that I may no longer then hide
all of this pain I do still endure
in order to make my ink pure
For is the price I must pay
script lines for a passionless play
meant only as a silly soliloquy
penned just to amuse me
When all alone I again recite
a melancholy poetry in the night
broken lines with jagged rhyme
my only true way to pass the time