A poem describing the hurt and how writers are inspired to write.
and love is lost
I do not know what to do
I just sit and cry
bite my lips
and lose all might
moments like these often occur
making me wonder what life is really
is this love?
I thought of it otherwise
mills and boon I used to read
dreaming of my prince charming
reality was stark
hits me on the head
at moments like this
what does man really want?
money or just fun
do I hold no meaning?
like I used to be a darling to parents
old age is fast approaching
I am as alone now in soul
maybe it is for preparing
for a better life of tomorrow
all writers and artists are great
but their lives
are nothing to boast about
which is why they write or act or paint
the pain finds an outlet
and their words and works get acclaim.
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