LOVE LETTERS

And so the poet writes on

Sitting, here alone in my chair
I wonder
Think
Ponder this life of constant ink

The paper is stretched thin
Transparent
Cold
Blank virginable white

Waiting
Stating it's own view
To be raped by my pen
Is nothing new

Ink scrawls across
Leaving a mark
A trace without fragrance
Teardrops to taste

Dry powder to dry up the dross
A tissue
To catch loves loss
Broken feather quill

Only the sound of scratching
Nib on chaste paper
To kill

Author's Note

Say what you may, tiss my heart on display

Reviews

[Marie Harrison]

Oh such words of longing and desire buried in sadness and angst.

[dora]

Awesome

[Sweet_pale_cacophony]

That feeling of relief and contentment and the end of draining out your thoughts on paper..it is unmatched.
Well expressed..

[Tasha]

This was great and unique. I enjoyed it a lot.
♥ Ta'Shandra

[deeps]

This is a real lovely write. I enjoyed this. Thank you for your review on my poem.

[Black]

it is a beautifull poem..
though some words i would have changed ..
rape you shouldnt take lightly, but maybe you did concider that
keep on writing

[emmajoy]

Such a clever means of how writing appears, this is like a rough sketch for a forthcoming masterpiece .. scattered strokes, sharp lines .. unusual.

[Sukriti Suki]

I like this...pen raping the paper with thoughts....hmm clever and unique.

[SINDE]

This is unique and GREAT. Simplicity plus imagery..I read it over and over again .I don't mind your pen raping pieces of paper again and again .SUPERB.

[Disillusioned]

What a unique way to say what you will, heart and all!