I used to be a poet, now im just an asshole with a pen.

 

Midnight worlds swirled with moolight beams. 


Delicate dainty love inscriptions would tumble to the page, aligned in perfection at whim. 


But the darkness rising has hooked my soul.

living under a darkened shroud 

Lillies, butterflies and daffodils died, still hanging off a demonic cloud.


Such was the darkness, A sickly offering of vileness and envy

I knew i had no other thing to do, but to espouse it all up like spew. 


I struck the worlds of beauty from my head and pulled out the ones nailed to my heart 

I still bleed love darker than the darkest dark, I fucked with your mind and tore out your heart

I put it on display for all,  the winning-est cunt! 


Never thinking at all that my pen was sharper than your knife 

And that assholes with pens trump cunts.


I wish I was sorry.

Maybe i could forgive or forget and move on 

Maybe then the words would come


stuck on a barren rock alone in space and time 

The stories of my heart all gone,

You stole my pretty words along with the beautiful ones

 

i can't bring it back its gone too far this farce 

The rest i killed alone, each with an end stroke - coup de gras.


Now I don't care if it ever revives, because I'm fine just being some asshole with a pen


And I never wrote it for you anyway, not now, not then.


I only ever wrote for myself

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

First draft :

Midnight worlds swirled with moolight beams 

And delicate dainty love inscriptions would tumble to the page 

Aligned in perfection at whim. 

But the darkness rising has hooked my soul 

Lillies, butterflies and daffodils died still hanging off a demonic cloud

And such was the darkness, I knew i had no other thing to do

but to espouse it all up like spew. 

A sickly offering of vileness and envy

I struck the worlds of beauty from my head and pulled out the ones nailed to my heart 

I still bleed love darker than the darkest dark

And i fucked with your mind and tore out your heart

I put it  on display for all,  the winning-est cunt 

Never thinking at all that my pen was sharper than your knife 

And that assholes with pens trump cunts.

I wish I was sorry.

Maybe then the words would come

Maybe i could forgive or forget and move on 

You stole my pretty words along with the beautiful ones

The stories of my heart all gone,

stuck on a barren rock alone in space and time.

The rest i killed  each with an end stroke - coup de gras.

Now i dont care if it ever revives

because im fine just being some asshole with a pen

And i never wrote it for you anyway not now not then.

I only ever wrote for myself.

 

 

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SSmoothie's picture

Ok it's a rhymed and I think

Ok it's a rhymed and I think it's gotten to where it's almost good. Thanks for your help it's the reason I could :) 


Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's life SIMS, but not as we know it" - ¡$&am

SSmoothie's picture

Hmmmn not sure which version

Hmmmn not sure which version reads best.


Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's life SIMS, but not as we know it" - ¡$&am

Morningglory's picture

Maybe the latter

I'm not certain either. The second one makes us read it at a slower pace which probably cuts a little deeper. 


Copyright © morningglory

SSmoothie's picture

I agree thanks :) hugss 

I agree thanks :) hugss 


Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's life SIMS, but not as we know it" - ¡$&am