Whether with pleasure or pain
the ink always seems to stain
seems to leave its faint mark
bold yet subtle as any spark
How it is able to then ignite
every line within every write
all that I want to truly say
within these words I do play
No matter the color of my ink
I find myself lost upon the brink
at the margins of the page
ready to fall again off the stage
Tattoos I now give myself
return my dreams to the shelf
return my hopes to their drawer
where they await longing for more
Much like ash or soot
kept here forever underfoot
how my life does still hinge
upon the color of this tinge
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Author:
Libellule (
Offline) - Published: April 7th, 2025 13:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
Offline)
Comments2
A great write about the process of writing. A colorful and bright write. Lovely
A lovely gentle write on the thought process of putting pen to paper, really enjoyed the read
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