I’m not a painter but a poet
An endless flow of untouchable ink,
Imprinting words in your mind
Trickling around as you think.
A vibrant flow of colour & pattern
Leaving interpretation in every verse,
Injecting my words into your blood
This creativity is an intoxicating curse.
Filled with emotion, pain & tears
Each stroke of the pen is my heart,
With each page suffering & bleeding
For all this poetry to be called art.