A Bit Of Rough

Throw me onto the bed

Dear boy

Your body on mine impose

For a meeting of minds

Is not required

Let alone

An entwinement of souls

An Apathetic Author

It’s
hard to
write
it all
down

What
I’ve
been
feeling
inside

But now
is the
time to
start
again

For the
truth
I’ll no
longer
hide

How Long?

How long
can you
go on
writing

When
your only
inspiration
is spite?

And now
you’ve had
to start
forgiving

So that
you can
sleep
at night

Writing At Midnight

The
words
advance
in waves

Their
ferocity
I cannot
stop

But all
too soon
there’s
nothing left

As I’ve
wrung
out every
last drop

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