Inked out

this blue lit candle

seeped out like ginger ale

from beneath my rhyme I pull

this veil

burst burst

this wicker candle

cover this empty page

convoluted like the motives

in my head

I will write past the line

I will transcend the times

the desire for lines

will fill the empty inside

another writing spout

turn it inside out

play my poker

face or nothin

wanna pen and render

now till november

watch it spin around

till dutiful oblivion

I write true

never true to you

knock knock

my rhyme is beating

pen standing at the door

this literary boat

still I row….

Although this road is ronin

I endure my own hell

until Christ should ring

my bell

I will write past the line

I will transcend the times

the desire for lines

will fill the empty inside

another writing spout

turn it inside out

play my poker

face or nothin

wanna pen and render

now till november

watch it spin around

till dutiful oblivion

I write true

never true to you