Bleeding Pen

The bleeding pen I was born sick and poetry is the ink of my disease Was born blind but art gave me vision I am the bleeding pen. Wounded for my thoughts Betrayed by my own darkness Freedom dressed in bondage I am the bleeding pen. Crying out for the poor Banging on heaven's door Noise dressed in silence I am the bleeding pen. Jokes sound tragic Reality turns magic Sanity dressed in madness I am the bleeding pen . In pain still I rise Till my fire bring forth ice My Blood dressed in ink I am the bleeding pen. #benarmani(lines&letters)