Filled with different emotions
The letters are carefully chosen
Late at night the poet will write
When time feels like it's frozen
We write about our happy endings
To cover up our pain
We write our grief to feel relief
But our words will never complain
Each letter takes his place in line
On the tip of the poet's quill
His only care is to try to share
An emotion the reader can feel
The letters start to form the words
That's chosen by the muse
Try as he might the words he'll write
There's a few he'll have to reuse
But once the poet lays down his quill
And everythig's been said
His pain will cease and bring him peace
Each time the poem is read
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 6:54 PM UTC
Filled with different emotions
The letters are carefully chosen
Late at night the poet will write
When time feels like it's frozen
We write about our happy endings
To cover up our pain
We write our grief to feel relief
But our words will never complain
Each letter takes his place in line
On the tip of the poet's quill
His only care is to try to share
An emotion the reader can feel
The letters start to form the words
That's chosen by the muse
Try as he might the words he'll write
There's a few he'll have to reuse
But once the poet lays down his quill
And everythig's been said
His pain will cease and bring him peace
Each time the poem is read