Poetess In a Pen

Her spirit is made from iron and ink truth drips easily from her sable soul everything else goes down the grate she's panned the slag from the gold poetess lives deep within a pen. She writes masterworks that nobody's read but she's a sashay ahead of her time maybe they'll see it when she's dead or maybe they'll be too damn blind poetess lives deep within a pen. Like all things the poetess has fled her voice sprinkled on a passing cloud her gentle soul finally settled into a nest listen closely when the rain comes down poetess lives deep within a pen.