With jagged nib
I slit my wrists
and tensed my arm
and squeezed my fist
spilling the life
we could not share
upon the page
headed - despair
in reddened ink
for all to see
that without you
there is no me
My words are smudged
my work misread
the meaning now
like me lies dead
My coffin dear is leather bound
with foreword left to chance
Titled - The Fool Who Had A Heart
But Knew Not Sweet Romance
Poetry can be more honest than any heart