
the pen that writes verse
is fueled with tears and blood
attached to the heart
and ne'er has an end.
the place the verse is written
often is peeled from the skin
of the poet's soul deep
in the depths of what is unknown.

the pen that writes verse
is fueled with tears and blood
attached to the heart
and ne'er has an end.
the place the verse is written
often is peeled from the skin
of the poet's soul deep
in the depths of what is unknown.
my normal place for the prompt today did not fit the current volume…so I found a prompt Here.

By Serena Mossgraves
I live in a world where biography's
Indicate fictional characters
Which apparently means there is naught
That we in the real world could learn from them...
History is become
the darkness that clouds
what lay ahead of us,
Instead of shedding light
on where we have been.
And as I struggle
to light the path
for those around me
Feeling as though
this might just be a war
I cannot win...
I realize that even if I
am becoming fiction...
I still will never be the person
that they want in the end....
I was watching a video of The North Omaha Cat Lady. Incredible creator. She was reacting to a comment claiming Anne Frank was a fictional character. Admittedly that inspired Serena’s Poem, and broke my heart. Anne Frank was an incredible young lady. There have been very few biographical books I have enjoyed over the course of time I have been a reader, and her diary was one. The other that stands out was the nine days queen…the story of Lady Jane Grey.
Please if all of the best historical people are to become fiction…then let us still learn from their example. Just because something is fiction does not stop the truth behind it. We can learn from history, from fiction and from each other if we just open our hearts and our minds.
Right now is a scary time to be alive, especially if you live anywhere in the USA. I really try not to be too political on here as I don’t feel like that is what most people come to my blog for. However, having said that…Sometimes it hurts to be self aware in a time of political turmoil and unrest.

as the poet spilled
all the words across
the page purposefully...
the pen bled whispers
of possibility and choice
leaving the poet drained.
the drops formed words
the words formed verse
and all of them became a soul.
random prompt from reddit today
prompt can be found here

here I go again
picking up my pen
I became a poet
with nary a clue
I would always want
to scribe more
verse to speak
my heart clearly

writing lines of heartbroken verse
across the scars of what was once
my flesh and skin...
my life in ink
made of tears
my soul in poetry
and the author is the one
living the verse as it is written

I will have to catch up. new glasses triggered a migraine
my normal place for the prompt today did not fit the current volume…so I found a prompt Here.
Songs Used: Five-finger-death-punch-Jekyll-and-Hyde, Falling in reverse Popular monster, Falling In Reverse The Voices in my head, Pink Don’t Let Me Get me, Slipknot the Devil In I, Citizen Soldier Would anyone Care, Bebe Rexha I’m Gonna Show You Crazy, With words filled in to make the poem work.
this is the third time I have done a poem like this.