Ace Of Black Hearts (04/17/1984 / Homa Lousiana)
For The Love Of Writing
A set way.
I have never understood it.
Not today, not tomorrow.
I prefer what's natural.
Thoughts put straight upon this page.
Free style to an act upon a play.
Maybe I suck, and that is okay.
But you can't force sounds of the heart and soul.
No matter the research, no matter what is thought to be prior art.
You paint your portrait, and I will mine.
Don't try to convince in the preaching of better ways.
Syllables I'm not trying to match, never have been.
Each verse is part of the same story, same entity.
Why do you think I write if not for the love of writing?
Comments about this poem (For The Love Of Writing by Ace Of Black Hearts )
People who read Ace Of Black Hearts also read
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings