I thrive to live a writer's life
Pouring out my soul in words
Craving needing inspiration
So I can write
So many writers come and go
In a poem, they left their song
Soon they became insane
I pray I don't go that same way
Fearing the sight of my own blood
I use black ink instead
Putting my pain into words
Will it ever do me any good?
A poetic child I am
Falling in love with my teacher
She is the writer I would like to be
Teaching me how a poem is made
I thrive to live a writer's life
Not the kind who looks for something to write
But the kind who find it in nature
Who finds something to write about themselves?
©2011 Thomas Dooley
Pouring out my soul in words
Craving needing inspiration
So I can write
So many writers come and go
In a poem, they left their song
Soon they became insane
I pray I don't go that same way
Fearing the sight of my own blood
I use black ink instead
Putting my pain into words
Will it ever do me any good?
A poetic child I am
Falling in love with my teacher
She is the writer I would like to be
Teaching me how a poem is made
I thrive to live a writer's life
Not the kind who looks for something to write
But the kind who find it in nature
Who finds something to write about themselves?
©2011 Thomas Dooley
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