deepundergroundpoetry.com

Rival

 

I had been born to paint & draw,
And later on, to write the part.
My first poetic spill was raw,
As tears fell from a broken heart.

I didn’t think I’d write again,
Expose my deeper self unseen.
And do it from a bleeding pen,
What did I know at age fourteen.

I kept to paint & pastel dreams,
My darker side hid quietly.
But innocence, not all it seems,
 Will cause a rival’s irony.

It’s like the heart in ways expressed,
This poet writes what she will write.
It’s what it is, there is no rest,
In light of day thru’ dark of night.

Written by Jade-Pandora (jade tiger)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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