My Last Poem

To write no more, shall be hard to do. to push never again my crocked pen across the page which once was new now so stained from pain within. No more I write to an ascending voice to hear their laughter from the back. Knowing full well this be my choice to write no more for skill I lack. There shall be no loss to none but me to find my thoughts uncarpeted then to let my poets heart blow free my scatter verse unto the wind. I write no more I've had enough to feel their sneer at my printed word their descending mock for that I love I drop bitter tears upon my verse. From my heart so torn and I forlorn so this shall stand as my final poem.