Treasure Island

Bill Cantrell


A Poets Salvation


When a poet has turned jealous
He relinquishes his soul
He trades the pen for rope,
And now for him, the bell must toll.

He domesticates emotion,
So that wording sounds elite
Graphics laced with rules of math;
A rhythm of defeat

Salvation is not in the pen,
It dwells inside the heart
Springs that brings forth meaning,
To both the light and of the dark

Drink the sweet emotions
From the cistern deep within
Joy will be your children
And peace will be your friend

Submitted: Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Edited: Wednesday, January 29, 2014

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