Poetic Surgeon

Sometimes my pen cuts as a scalpel in the surgeons hands It releases my thoughts, it creates my plans I can build them up, I can tear them down Will I make them happy or will I make them frown My words are filled with passion, they have the power of life and death I can give you hope or make you feel there's nothing left People follow the stanzas to the end of every page Some titles express joyfulness while others breathe rage Will my words take you to the skies, will they bury you in the sand This poet is more than words, I am a still hurting man So with each poem complete a part of my soul is released When you take the journey, will you awaken or tame the beast Creating is what I do, turning my flows into light I will take you on a trip with every thought I write So in essence this poet is the surgeon, the scalpel is my pen I can take what was birthed in sadness and make you feel alive in the end