Death of My Ink
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This poem is a true story about me. I wrote a masterpiece in 1998 and didn't write anything again until 2016 or 2018. Looking back all I can say "my pen went dry."
Death of My Ink
After a masterpiece that I was proud to write
no poetic words flowed from my pen out right
I could not ink the description of a desert dry
and worse yet had no mindset to try
thought I had to be conflicted enough
to use words to scream out in pain
I had no arsenal to name the sea a quilt of blue
Writing had come to a screeching halt
and not penning poetry was like food without salt
But just as a cloud hung over a little boat
a storm raged over my drink ink moat.
My ink did not have bicycle wheels
nor did it chase me wearing high heels
I had no idea if ink could have a revival
it was dead I assumed no survival.
Copyright © Miranda Hawley | Year Posted 2024
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