Ink

Sadness is the poet’s ink;
Another blue-black drop on parchment
Dug from point to paper.
No rhyme-scheme,
But heart-beaten rhythm.
Even this runs dry.
Sadness is the poet’s ink.
Sadness is the poet’s ink.

I dig deep to hurt again.
Sadness is the poet’s ink.

I sign my name,
Hidden in legality; documents.
Even this runs dry.

Pencils with dull point;
Overwrite bloods, ink.
Even this runs dry.

Sadness is the poet’s ink.
I dig deep to hurt again.
No rhyme scheme,
But heart broken rhythm;
Sadness is the poet’s ink.