Bend me your ear to my muse, lesson well and you might learn something.
My heart belongs to my pen, I bleed its ink on paper for you to see my pleasures and my passions.
It’s a smear of rhymes and riddles pulled forth from my soul.
It’s my lifeline a needle that pulls at my heart strings.
A stitch that’s stretched to its outer limits until my Gothic ink leeks through.
With good measure my poetry pulls forth, emotions, commotion, and more.
Your left in wonder and to ponder on my deepest thoughts.
As I scratch and scrape my data onto your application of digital media.