The Write of the Emo Poet
Of course is doomed to fail
Yet even so they raise their pen
Against the world to rail
Through glasses fashioned out of angst
They view a graying sky
And know that it will only end
Upon the day they die
With blood black ink they write the words
That cause the moon to cry
And tell of all the things gone wrong
But never answer why

The Write of the Emo Poet
Is dipped in bitter sweet
Its forged on long walks through the fog
And drizzle on the street
For every thing that might be good
They find some hidden wrong
Which others cannot understand
Alone they sing their song
In mournful tones that rip the heart
And bind even the strong
Their only joy is knowing of
The sorrows of the throng