Tragedy

What a waste it would be
To fall in love
And not write pages
Upon pages
Of poetry
To have a muse
But fill no museums
With art
To not have your sleeves turn red
From your bleeding heart.

That would be more tragic
Than to never fall in love at all.

But here I am
Staring at a blank page
And wondering where all the words have gone.

Advertisements

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

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: