red (Remove filter)
Red Ink
Red Ink marks the paper
Scores a line and gives a grade
In the bossiest of moments
Tells of corrections to be made
Scores a line and gives a grade
In the bossiest of moments
Tells of corrections to be made
Red Ink warns of danger
As it sits there standing bold
Or a single word might hang there dripping
While your blood runs stinging cold
As it sits there standing bold
Or a single word might hang there dripping
While your blood runs stinging cold
It then brings heat, inspires passion
Like the warming of a fire
Consuming mind and paper
While the temperature gets higher
...
Like the warming of a fire
Consuming mind and paper
While the temperature gets higher
Saturday 6th August 2016 12:22 pm
Recent Comments
Philip Stevens on This Imaginary Life-Part 3 (Nature)
1 hour ago
Nigel Astell on June 2025 Collage Poem: You Watched the Trains Come, You Watched the Trains Go
8 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
13 hours ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
1 day ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
1 day ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
1 day ago