I fear the day that my ink has all dried,
I fear having to feel the tears that I hide,
I fear the battle with my secret pains for I will lose that fight,
For I simply am too weak and I can not cry those tears that I write.
How will I ever explain in a way they can relate?
If I lose my pen, therefore the words I create.
I write my heartbreak with ink in order to show my strife,
Instead of crying on and on forever, then losing my life.
I am afraid of the Pandora's box deep within my soul.
For it cages all the rage, hurt, and emotions that I cannot control.
That bottomless box holds so much, When it gets too full, I simply pick up my pen....
I fight back my pain and I write out all the heart shattering truth, again and again.
I am a troubled spirit, one who prefers to keep it all in....
a troubled "Poe", my only fear is losing the strength to pick up my pen.
I really mourn the day I lose the will to write,
for the demons be set free and I will lose my fight