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)
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