I pick up a pen, fingers white on the plastic,
Force myself to write with hands that shake,
Ignore all of the voices that scream for your blood
And focus on the one that whispers 'no'
Hold a brush to the expectant canvas,
Will the pain and bruises away
As the blood-soaked utopia
Once more becomes green
Drain the venom from your bites,
Instead of drugging away the pain
Use the shattered remnants of a life
To rebuild, remold, and create
You say my art is pointless,
But you dont know the truth
My pointless scribbles and useless lines
Are all that's helped keep you alive
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I do like a poem with apunch line. You brought it all home with that last line. Read mine - Love's Diamond - Adeline