How Stupid is This

As I said last time, there’s a fair few of poems of complaining about lack of inspiration. This one harks back to darker times for me.

How stupid is this
ink used to flow from my pen
blood from a wound
back when red was such a familiar colour
now my pen seems to have scabbed up
healed over
just like the other wounds
but poetry was never about that
it was fun
in a world of pain
I don’t want to loose that fun
Though I WONT go back for it.

Hope you enjoy, please feel free to comment.
The Lonely Recluse

~ by The Lonely Recluse on May 28, 2015.

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