Black on Black Arts
The Demise of a Poet
Time slowly ticks tick, ticking away.
Sitting at the table staring at a blank piece of paper.
Pen in hand tapping tap, tapping on the table.
It echoes as it resonates thru the house.
His inspiration washed away like seashells on a beach.
Eyes red as the tears fall it wets the paper that was once considered his canvas.
Creativity gives way to frustration.
Liquor becomes his aspiration.
Nothing else matters as he drinks the pain away.
Laying down bottle in hand.
Giving up on his one true love.
Feeling a pain in his chest he holds his heart his eyes shutter and close.
The bottle falls.
His body goes limp.
An eerie sounds looms acroos the house.
The time slowly continues to tick, tick away
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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