Everyday I write the book





You turned me into a poet

A ceaseless scribbler

Who wears his heart like a wrist watch

You filled me up with words

So many words that they started spilling

Out of my mouth


From my fingers

You made me a man of letters



In bookman and calibri

Electric scrawls in the digital sands

A ghost voice in a sea of white noise

You did this

Made me a terrible poet

Who won’t shut the hell up

No one else is to blame

For all this inappropriate verse

Just you

It was all you.







3 thoughts on “Everyday I write the book

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s