“The pen is mightier than the sword”, it’s said,

But bitter and twisted gobs on sticks stir shit;

Mendacity’s their stock in trade; love’s bled

To death by sabre-rattling hypocrites.

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the pain of the vacant page                                      stage

for the dance

of my pen

the fear of the frozen mind                                        blind

  to the hope

 of a rhyme

the silence of an empty house                                spouse

to the song

of my word

the hush of unwanted time                                      chime

t...

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Losing all my trust,
yet I still believe you,
admitting my defeat.

You have lied,
many times before,
and you still told me things,
no body knows.

Showed your true colours,
but never showed your face.
Flirt with the thought of death,
somehow you were stopped,
but this time,
nothing stands in the way,
except for a bottle of rum,
a golden pen and a writing you'll never understand.

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You have proven to be my biggest ally, knowing

Me better than anyone else.

Shaping my thoughts into the paper canvas, opening

A door for them to see into my world.

Grateful I am for your help, lost

I would be without you.

Thank-you for being by my side, and

For encouraging me to never give up.

My dearest friend, my

Silver pen.

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Sun through window,

Clock ticks.

I stare into space,

Blank mind like empty canvas.

Pen taps,

Doodles,

Failed slaughterer of time.

Work unfinished,

Clock ticks.

Cold coffee untasted,

I look at unread my emails,

and ignore them.

Facebook?

Clock ticks.

Clock ticks.

Clock ticks.

Shuffle papers,

Move mouse,

Press keys,

Clock ticks.

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