Sunday, April 26, 2009

Poet's Misery

There is a blinding inferno,
blazing inside of me.
A fiery mass of feelings
that no one seems to see.

They mock with endless laughter,
the emotions that flow in my soul
the words that come thereafter.

My abilities are a joke to them
they revel in practicality
their measuring yardstick terribly short
ignoring hope for harsh reality.

To them I have this to say
your souls are but dry wells
denied the hope of precious water
even with magical spells.

It takes courage to hope, still more to dream
when insulting the heartless world may seem.
Around my pen my fingers will ever curl
till the day my words move the world.

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