They said he was no genius,
No hero of the mind was he,
So he shut his door to the world,
With only him to keep him company,
He sat before a blank page,
His mind twisting and yearning,
A pen poured forth his rage,
A poet's life he was learning,
All he had was in his head,
And some weren't sympathetic,
He'd just as well be dead,
He was so damn pathetic.
Would he give birth to a dancing star?
He had not lived long,
Would he go that far?
This is the story of many of our young,
Reaching for that shimmering moon,
Most of them die too soon.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.08 seconds at 3:11pm on Nov 25, 2024 via server WEBX2.