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Rated: E · Poetry · Arts · #2137008
Writing and the writer
In cryptic rhymes, I walk a path
Revealed to all, a twisted art
In timeless verse, I bear my soul
To speak of things, I can’t control
Bound in verse, I free my mind
With pen and paper, lost in time
Torn In thought, words play their game
But what spills forth, is to no one’s gain
In writer’s ink, like tears before
I lay in trust, to be no more
In words fall prey, thy criticism
Yet reveal an inward vision
What it is to be held true?
To give to some a different view
Wisdom's price, in dues I’ve paid
A crippled mind now rests betrayed
My works repent, now spoken true
Hidden scripts, in plain view
Twist you must to understand
The wordsmiths curse
Will shape the land.

© Copyright 2017 Robert Hayes (skegs at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2137008