Tinta
Write your worries, if you have them,
Let it down with pain and ink.
Pour your soul, let go your doubts,
Let them go and let them sink.
Will and write away your love-torn,
Heart-torn, For-lorn broken sighs.
Write away your heart-stop sightings
Rub the sand from young-old eyes.
Touch the place he took your heart from,
Face it so that it can heal,
Write until your hands stop shaking,
'Til you forget this pain was real.
Copyright © Annabelle Jane | Year Posted 2011
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