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Drops of frustration
Of infinite duration
Limiting my concentration
A devious complication
To my poetic aspiration
Filling me with consternation
My soul dark in desolation
My pen I raise in desperation
It urges me to new creation
Will it yield it's facination
Flowing ink and inspiration
Heart racing in acceleration
Lips licked in anticipation
Paper, pen, brain: collaboration
Pen starts to fly: imagination
Face alive with animation
Frustrations great culmination
Becomes my inner motivation
Finally, a new creation
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She knows she must get out of bed
and pulls her eyes painfully to reality
She thinks about hurting herself
She needs a wound
Something
Black as the night
A heart alone
Time is not my friend
Fear suffocates me at every turn
Feeling like I'll never be normal
Always
That One Guy
Annoying and so loud,
Stands out in the crowd,
Ridiculous and dumb,
Needs kicked in the bum,
A voice that kills my
Frustration
Few things get the best of me,
These days I live pretty leisurely,
Being retired and single, I do as I please,
by The Magician
Moth to a Flame
As you the flame and I the moth,
A fire so deep and true.
Sweet melody you sang to me.
The words I wrote for
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Poetry: Frustration
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