Ink Stained KnifeA Poem by A Lost Man FoundMy Bic is filled with blood.I state a fact That all great writers know. In my wrists, my blood runs black. Through these veins, dark ink flows.
All writers feel a passion No other artist knows. This passion can cause a verbal reaction From which beautiful words will flow.
The poet feels things deeply, A Pandora's box which can't be closed. Creating rhymes that brush the ears ever so sweetly. When truly inspired, ones true beauty shows.
An author creates tales Some of terror, others of woe. Tales of love and bitter betrayal, Or a sweet romance, sexy and slow.
Pain, however, pain inspires all! From Great Shakespeare, straight to ol' E.A Poe. From Great pain comes great fear, Every single one has let it show.
Lastly, I say, yes my blood runs black. From now til eternity this stands true. I am well on my path and I won't turn back. Not for them, not for her, and certainly not for you.
© 2008 A Lost Man FoundAuthor's Note
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Added on November 6, 2008Last Updated on November 8, 2008 AuthorA Lost Man Foundparagould, ARAboutWhy won't these demons be quiet? I just want peace. I have wanted the eternal peace for as long as I can remember, but feel like a f*****g p***y because I can't bring myself to do it. Sometimes I wis.. more..Writing
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