I Wanted To Write A Poem
With Endless Meaning
And So It Twas Written
Cutting Veins of Crimsoned Emotions
Un-oxygenated Transforming Into a Bluish Hue
I Wrote For He For Me For Even You
Black Ink Tears
On Whitened Pages
White Letters
to Black Font
To Blank Surfaces
I
Poured
My Heart Out
Like Whiskey
and Moonshine
For All
poetry
drinkers
To
See
A
Death of My Words
In The Memories
I Wasn't Touching
Enough Really
Inspired No Longer
I
See a Death of
Cultivation
Conceptual
Immunizations
No Longer Carrying The Disease
To Create
My Babies
No Foaming at The Mouth
NO Creative Rabies
No Bite To Inflect
Knowledge to Emotion Into
Blank Pages
For Sharing Has No Longer Seemed
An Act of Caring
Family
Has Become
I N V I S I B L E
Popularity a Contest
and
Brilliance of Others
Have Flooded
Areas
and
I
Heard Please and Cries for
Something That of A Movement
So I
Grabbed
To My
Lungs
and
Pierced My Brain
In Order To Give
The Purest of Me
Since
To Me
Regurgitating
Letters
Was Necessary
Protein Purged
Past
Pages
Purposefully
Perfected
and
Published
Poignantly Posed
Punching Prose and
Promoting Poetry
I
Sat and
Twas Written
Without Hollow
Substance
Solidly Scribing
Reaching
New Highs
Till I Got Nosebleeds
My Third Eye Did
The Crying For Me
Bringing Life Mummified Calligraphy
I Spoke of
Injustices
and
Emotions Gone Awry
Imprisoned Sentences
and
Things That Just Weren't
Write
I
SCRIBED
Till Wrists
Turned into
D
U
S
T
And
Nerves Into
Particles
I Tried Different Lengths
Brought Issues To the Table
Becoming
My
OWN
F O O D
F O R
T H O U G H T
Did What I Felt
And At Times
It Seemed Never
Enough
But
It
Took
Everything
Out of Me
D
R
I
P
D
R
O
P
P
E
D
`
`
`
.
Out of Existence
See It Twas Written
But It Twas
N E V E R
Read
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem