She writes with pure emotion
'Til her words begin to weep
She tries to free her soul from pain
But the hurt is just too deep

Each breath she takes she hesitates
Thinking it might be her last
Her mind betrays her future thoughts
While dwelling in the past

Her tears become the poet's ink
As she writes her heartache free
A stain becomes her work of art
Her quill, her misery

Her words become too heavy
Her will is much too weak
Her hands begin to quiver and shake
And her lips refuse to speak

She writes untill her heartache's gone
And her tears no longer remain
The last thing she does is name her feelings
It'a called, The Poet's Pain