Just doing what I think isn't smart,
Wasting my time,
Scribbling down my issue,
On torn up worn on scroll that just keeps going,
Can't help but wanna fill the whole page,
Although rarely does it see me smile like you do.
It drives me crazy,
And I'll tell myself until I die,
That pain is all apart of my happiness,
Go ahead and write the tears down,
Let them fall and stain the darkened paper,
The crinkled paper,
Is the only thing that knows the best and the worst me,
And my pen will be the death of me,
Why can't it be dead to me.
The day I run out of things to say,
The one I run out of ink,
And space on the paper,
I just might actually smile,
Knowing I have written my whole hearts content.
YOU ARE READING
The Damning Of My Poet Soul
PoetryAnd all it took was one neat paragraph in pen. Enjoy some small teen me starting from like 2016 to like idk late 2018 I think early2019 I'm doing some rereading and retitling cuz numbers idk Thank you readers for over 4k reads. like is it good tho...
