Of Poet's and Their Passion

 

We understand

The need to bleed

In drops of ink-shaped jot

As oft we spill

Against our will

The flow of tortured thought

We understand

The urge to purge

Through channels of the pen

And how its want

Will ease then taunt

Again, again, again

We understand

The ache to take

Life’s pain and ecstasy

Of battles fought

Within our thought

To bleed in poetry

© Janet Martin