Sleeping In the Inkwell
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This is a copyrighted lyric poem, designed to be accompanied with music and singing voice. How said music is arranged is up to the inclinations of the artist, after payment is made to the poet for such rights.This lyric is from the anthology, Scenes From the Cerebellum, a work in progress.
Sleeping In The Inkwell
Been looking around for that strange smell,
Don’t know if it’s coming from under the sink.
I been sleeping in the inkwell,
I can only wonder what you must think.
I hear there’s been a lot of loose talk,
Some dude talking smack about my babe,
But I been sleeping in the inkwell,
I wanted no part of that charade.
My babe, she left me,
High and dry in the summer,
She say I’m a liar, written in a note from her,
But I disagree.
She never really knew me.
But life had other idears,
My face got pocked,
I died many deaths looking into mirrors,
The doors to my sad kingdom utterly locked.
Still looking around for that strange smell,
It must be coming from under the sink,
I been sleeping in the inkwell,
I can only wonder what you must think.
Copyright © Stark Hunter | Year Posted 2018
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