Sunday, January 5, 2014

Invisible Ink

ink flowing bold through my veins
as though the niagra were alive inside
a whirlpool overflowing with letters
has kept me estranged

tossed around like a puppet
on a treacherous ride
I have gained composure and started anew
before i think or envision pain
the words are swift to spew

grasping the pen as thought to pretend
sentences starting to bend
i search deep within
only to reveal a familiar friend
just before the urge to quick to click send
i obtain my quest
yet soon to begin
I've foreseen the end

By Jonathan Grant McElroy