Thursday, 31 March 2011

Walking the line

Try as I might,
I cannot contain,
this beautiful, but,
agonizing pain,

I try to separate,
light from dark,
I keep the boundaries,
black ink sharp,

Yet with each and every,
exquisite word play,
the pen cuts deeper,
into my heart.
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3 comments:

  1. Judge Whisky1 April 2011 at 12:49

    Short, sharp and concise.
    Excellent.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Martin3 April 2011 at 19:57

    Pain is the ink flowing out of the pen steered by our scars. Like your poem!

    ReplyDelete
  3. The Linnet9 April 2011 at 23:25

    Thankyou both for your kind comments, glad you liked it :)

    ReplyDelete

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