Poetry is a drug,
production of rhyme the high,
the vast divide between the pen,
the paper, and the scribe's mind
causes the low.
When it goes, it goes.
I hate when I don't have it,
when I do, it's beyond pleasant,
it's heaven.
Too bad it seems I'm only a part-time angel,
flying for moments,
spending an eternity in hell.
Daniel Magner 2017