A creative flow.
Interupted by TAP TAP TAP.
Is not as romantic as,
A passionate love affair,
One that every poet has with thier pens and paper.
It flows from your mind,memories and muse
Through the viens, the carry the blood i abuse.
Until it hits the page,
This a climax of the greatest kind,
as true orgasmic fantsy is hard to find.
A passionate explosion of sentiment and feeling,
Anger and Hatern.
To some this is a useful outlet of one most find appealling,
What ever the muse.
What ever I said.
A hi-tect poet is something i dread.
Without the passion without the pain,
without the emotions pour downs like rain,
The pages of scribbled answers,
of troubled minds,
To that one most important line.
That one last breath before its through.
before the pen makes love to you,
the page which i resign myself to.

07/17/2007

Posted on 07/17/2007
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