Red Ink

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Red Ink marks the paper Scores a line and gives a grade In the bossiest of moments Tells of corrections to be made Red Ink warns of danger As it sits there standing bold Or a single word might hang there dripping While your blood runs stinging cold It then brings heat, inspires passion Like the warming of a fire Consuming mind and paper While the temperature gets higher The heart beats strong when red is shed Upon the clean white page And killer thoughts and deadly musings Are free to run with rage The pen is gripped, but so are you And there's no turning back No dos or don'ts, just anarchy Red Ink's a maniac! There's no control as you bare your soul In spurts of truth and lies and pain Seeping, oozing, gushing through The nib, an open vein -- When complete, though hardly neat The job is done, I can't deny For Red Ink has done its duty; It strikes the heart and strikes the eye (I choose to muse in pencil Or in simple black or blue But Red Ink has its purpose Perhaps you see that too)

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