Life And Death Of A Poet

As the ink bleeds black onto the paper I sit underneath the starlight, crying out my life story into the soft white pages My heart broken My life Intense Suffering the only thing I know Until death sets me free A poet at heart As I get older and wiser, I understand that every obstacle in front of me was there for a reason Death calls to me now in my old age I lay my body to sleep and drift into a deadly nightmare This is the life and death of a poet