My pen is like a candle
Always waiting to ignite
Inspired by fighting to love
And by simply loving to fight.

It produces profane compositions
It's a verbal "finger" in the air
Teeming with sarcastic euphemisms
While claiming never to care.

Now, my notebook is like a canvas
A naked ******, if you will
Seeking blemish, seeking substance
Openly desiring a thrill.

My ink bleeds across paper
Creating spark and catching flame
It is words like these, at the end of time
That will carry on my name.

(April 26, 2008)