wanderlust.

poets

poets are the kids who didn't make it.

they're the ones who've been through hell but still pry and search

for a heaven somewhere

they're the ones who feel the need to

stay past midnight

and look at the broken old ceiling as the clock goes

Ticktock Ticktock Ticktock-

and they wonder if the clock will turn into an hour of

redemption

of

salvation and hope

or is it just ticking senselessly towards a foolish aim?

they let the words bleed from their mind

and they watch the blood warily as it drips from their shoulder blades

and trickles down their hands as they form

words.

letters;

shameless letters to the world that never bothered to write back.

poets are the kids who didn't make it.