Monday, February 1, 2016


Spring rain wakes me up
With a pen in my hand
I've been dreaming of art
But suddenly I see
Pictures I long to erase

I see it like a movie in my head
I close my eyes but it lingers here
Like an ungrateful dream
And my eyes blur with tears

I've hurled axes of spite
And spears of my hurt
Cut with daggers of anger
And swords with all of my might

I once read a book of fine verse
But then I scribbled the pages
'Til the verses were lost
Under resentful lines
Of drawings much worse

I loosed arrows of scorn
I was so blind but my aim
Was surprisingly true
And when I opened my eyes
All the pages were torn

There's an ache in my skull
From all the thoughts
I have thought
All the times I have judged
When I so knew not

And the taste in my mouth
Is of poison and pain
From the things that I've said
Words that don't wash away
In this cool spring rain

Because the ink never dries
It smears on the page
Some hearts are forever changed
By the slice of those blades
And the echoes of shouts never fade

I walked paths in gardens but
I withered the rose
And trampled the delicate fern
Wish I could undo the marks of those blows

Wish I could sew up those wounds
Pluck out deadly arrows
I keep wishing I had a way to
Make innocence regrow

I listen to the rain as I wait for the dawn
Midnight lingers forever it seems
But tomorrow I'll attempt to erase
The ugly lines I have drawn


  1. This was so moving on many levels. Beautifully done.

    1. Thank you. :) Not that I want to make anyone feel sad or anything, but I really want to write things that move people.