The word's drip easily...
Drawn bleedingly from my slender pen...
Etching pain and sorrow again ... and again ....
No word's can describe what I feel ....
Like majic they appear on the satin like page...
Bold like letter's and .... deep within a rage .......
Rage at what once was ... and will be again ...
They are drawn out from my bleeding pen ..
A rage I feel inside ... no ... less ...
Than a savage knife twisting and turning inside ..
What can this lonely man ......do to escape ...
This torturous feeling .... of a lost serenade ....
The serenade where I once played the fool ...
Of a man without .... his precious tool's ....
How can I as a mortal man weeping .....
Admit defeat in my inner most being .
Written by Terrance Martin
June 3rd / 2017
