Life drips from your inky tongue Or perhaps just silly words Things of feathers and old fears Things you scream from trembling hand A trail of murky ink as Your sweat, blood, and tears In the light you weep aloud Crawling through trenchant margins To the issue of a page Inching on ballpoint belly Perhaps towards the Nobel Prize Or a crumpled ball your grave You, the gun of fighting words The distant lovers’ kiss, such Love and hate have held you in You, the voice of the mute and Sword for broken hands You cannot comprehend The life your tongue has trapped Delighted that my poetry collection with this piece won a Scholastic Silver Key! Check out their site for more information on guidelines and deadlines. Excellent opportunities for aspiring artists and authors alike!
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AuthorWith ink dripping in my veins & stories dancing in my head, I spend my time untangling poetry & getting perfectly lost Archives
April 2017
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