Staining The Paper Poem by Jesse Ellsbury
Staining The Paper
Rating: ★5.0
Poetry
used to come easy,
the words would flow from my soul
like ink from a pen
blood from a wound,
staining the paper,
I died too soon.
Poetry
used to be instinct.
There was no effort,
I wrote like I breathed,
but the breath became labored,
I wheezed
into bags of paper,
crumpled
and thrown in the trash.
Monday, July 15, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: poetry
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Best Poems
Best Member Poems
Best Classical Poems
New Poems
New Poets
Best Member Poets
Best Classical Poets
Explore Poems
Explore Poets
Poem Of The Day
Love Poems
Baby Poems
Death Poems
Sad Poems
Birthday Poems
Wedding Poems
Nature Poems
Sorry Poems
Hero Poems
Poetry E-Books
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
8/5/2026 6:30:59 AM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
This is great, know just what you mean. Inspiration is often absent without leave. Very well expressed.