Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

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The Ink That Lies writers are liars made of ink and fog they hide the storm in their ink and show you only rain they make you believe their old paper wounds don't hurt they write worlds smiling while slowly dying deep inside readers say they're stars but they're only shadows in the sky writers are liars with hands full of gold they create characters like perfect crystal masks to hide this world full of cracks you always praise them and kiss their cold light but beneath the mask they hide seams of blood and ash in their soul there's a storm but they show you only dew they smile on the blank page and slowly die in their own ink from every wound they weave stories like a spider's web I see only a butterfly crushed under heavy leaden letters I touch your warm blood flowing like a river of mercury their characters are saints carved from light to hide the world's cracks with an old wound and you believe their perfection and wear it like a dream but under the skin runs the same blood, black as tar and your world stays just as shattered as before readers believe them prophets descended from a crystal sky but in their words sleeps a lie as sweet as honey I am the writer who pretends every night I wear a thousand faces to hide my real one and I too fade out on the last page not yet written

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