I’ll buy you Paper from Texas, A Heart from New Orleans, You’re Looking for Something that’s NOT in YOUR Life

You wrote a poem, a master piece, that you probably have been trying to get out for weeks and months. You finally let it out, for a moment their you felt something, you took for relief, but as time went by you knew that it was just momentary satisfaction, like a mother that have just given birth to her child.

Her wounds shall ache for a long time after her baby is out in the world, but her baby comforts her. Makes her feel that it was all worth while. That it is all said and done, and she has a baby out of it. Since writing is the closest thing men ever come to child labour, you comforted yourself telling yourself over and over again, that it was all said and done, and that you got “Er7aly” out of it.

The moment someone scratched the surface, told you he felt something even remotely similar to what you used to feel and still do feel. It all came back to you. Which kind of says that it never did go away from the start.

Writing immortalizes what we feel, what we’re going through. It doesn’t make it go away. It just makes it immortal.

That’s why they keep telling people don’t fall in a love dilemma with any kind of artist, because ART is immortal. And if you left a mark, you’ll be included in a piece of art. So leave a good mark on an artist, will you? Thing is the people who really get us seldom leave a good mark, mostly they tear us apart. They leave us to pick up the pieces after their mess, a mess of our heart.

You wanted love, you let go. You trusted and expected to get trusted back. But you didn’t and you came to know that baby not everyone is as beautiful as you.

You thought poetry and your gift will help you make it through and it does, will, and do. Just not like this. You need to feel everything the pain, the love, disappointment, desperation, then write it all down for time to see. Feel everything you write, cry on your keyboard. This is how poetry will get you through.

I just don’t feel you’re over her just yet. It’s not over till the last tear have been shed not till the last word has been written.

Write and Cry and Love Again Eventually.

I’ve seen it before, and baby you’re gonna make it on through…


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