The poem-
witnesses the depths of my agony,
laughs at my sincere embrace,
pities me to prevail.
i ought to have hidden my face,
beneath these pages.
Well, well,
What have we obtained?
A lonesome poet in need of coaxing.
Filling my spaces with words of sorrow,
Frailties unending.
Lacking in every depth of wisdom
Do you find your medicine seeping from my pages?
your words of belittlement,
to my core have undone me.
your sober minded wit, against my own.
the war raging against my parchment,
soaking with disdain.
Your resistance
Feeble and meek to me
Your quill yet falls beneath
The weight of your misery.
I shall no more suffer your taunts
These pools of person will not wither my words
You are yet papyrus- after all.
Try me, tear me
I always come back
Once again to torture you
I’m yet your figment- after all.
At last, a victory
Has been won.
Your foolish taunts are no more.
Torn in half,
You bleed the ink of my sorrows.
Share in my agony now parchment,
Understand My Words.
-
Author:
TheLittlePoet (
Offline) - Published: March 27th, 2023 16:06
- Comment from author about the poem: This is the war between a writer and himself, an analysis of self criticism and writer's block.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments1
This is okay I guess .Unfortunately nothing is explained.It is hard for the reader to know what is causing the "agony" the"pity" and the "laughs"
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