Poets are magicians of words
They write words unforetold-powerful like swords
Like they write with their hearts in their hands
And painless,flawless,blameless.
They write poetry so lyrical,
Magical,musical,philosophical,political,metaphorical,ironical
With words of nothingness but humor.
Their words talk like words too
Of a charismatic poet in love with her muse
Enchanted by her bliss and kiss.
Black tears on his face as he writes
About his love,endymion and melancholy
With his heart in despair
Like dying daffodils without water
And his heart is in solitude
No spirit of love to make him glee
But still the poet writes and loves
And his poetry is in his heart.
Archives for May 29, 2015
POETS ARE MAGICIANS OF WORDS
Heartbreak
It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before
It’s waking up at four am to remind myself how much I hate him
It’s fantasizing about punching him in the throat if he ever tries to speak to me again
It’s seeing the car he drives on the road and forcing myself to not slam into it
It’s seeing his face mounted on every man around me
It’s wishing it was his face
It’s sitting outside, smoking, waiting for him to pull up to my house
It’s staring out of the window with lapses in judgement thinking I should text
It’s cyber stalking him on social media hoping to find him fucking out like I am
It’s crying myself to sleep at night as I wonder where he’s been sleeping
It’s waking up nauseated by my own sadness that I can bare the sight of food
It’s kissing anything remotely attractive with the hopes of feeling something again
It’s waiting up until two in the morning hoping he would drunk dial
It’s thinking of him every second of every day
While he moves on with her.
