Confessions of a Poet

words are my life

i see them, i read them, i comprehend them
incorporate, classify, then justify them

find a umbrella and prepare for a brainstorm
pen at attention, paper ready, i push the pen
paper looks like a ink infestation
i start to have a brain fart
music is my motivation, pen is my inspiration

i finish my work, review it, then revise
recite, peer review, then finalize
my fans anticipate my surprise
they read it and become hypnotize
they like it because my words are wise
they love me and my ego rise

but

that doesnt separate from the fact that at night...
nobody can hear my cries
im engulfed in deceit and lies
im diagnosed with guilt and time flies
but

nobody is perfect

alas

i look up at the sun from my standpoint through the skies
i let the sun do its job as i get photosynthesized
i keep my paper and pen at hand, for with it, im energized
as i push the pen and let the ink bleed, my paper becomes crucified
with the emotions i felt from my heart and seen through my eyes
the pain is like writing with both of my hands behind my back tied
though i write....(silence)
as if i have nothing to hide

but this pen
OMG this pen (echoes: pen, pen, pen)
what a mighty hold it has
over me (echoes: me, me, me)
this pen is my inner voice
and the paper is where goes my inner thoughts

this pen is my life
this pen is my inspiration
this pen is my destiny
this pen is me
i cant live without my pen
nor can it live without me (echoes: me, me, me)