The Poet

My mind has run out of any useful thoughts, nothing poetic is left. I have exploited my mind, my very creative soul, all that’s left is a cold empty shell. I know all the words, to delight and to amaze. I can mold and distort, make villains into heroes. All this in a days work, for I am a poet. I concentrate until I bleed, for little more than your enjoyment. All this to connect with you. In a ways others can not understand. I take my pain and love and exploit it, turn it inside out for your pleasure. Turn myself inside out, relive each emotion until I cant go on. I then turn to you with a smile, and a relive it all again…. Until I have nothing left, For I am a poet. That’s what I do! I feel until there is nothing else left. Then I carefully share it with you. The blood on the page is mine, and I do it for you...

Sign up to vote on this title
UsefulNot useful