When Poets Bleed

When poets bleed they fill their quills And write their words in red The letters scream each time they're made In the hope of being read The page becomes a sounding board A mirror to the soul A reflection meant to bring them peace To comfort or console They choose their words so carefully Not wasting a drop of blood Writing words that lift them up As tears begin to flood They'll write with true conviction Each time they start to weep They write sometimes to clear their minds Before they get to sleep When poets bleed a word is born Trying to appease their need Shining a light to the whole wide world And all who want to read