The Forgotten Poet
I am the poet, the drunk and the madman,
the junkie of the soul you have borrowed
it is my collapse that you witnessed
it is my arise that you see
in this book here with thee
Gone the disgust, gone the disguise
Just look at at the stars and forget my scars
What remains in this embrace is the grace,
even the grace of a single phrase
I am still the poet, but no longer drunken or mad
You remain the junkie of my eternal soul
You might be a poet, or might be not yet
Your only difference with me,
is that death, did not catch you yet
Gone the disgust, gone the disguise
Just look at at the stars and forget my scars
What remains in this embrace is the grace
the grace of even this single embrace
You might even be, the single one to read me
but yet I survived in this piece of paper
which might be seen in the future
so paper does have a memory
Gone the disgust, gone the disguise
Just look at at the stars and forget my scars
What remains might only be,
the grace of my embrace with the paper
Copyright © Ellinor Sador | Year Posted 2013
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