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
 
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
 
It then brings heat, inspires passion
Like the warming of a fire
Consuming mind and paper
While the temperature gets higher
 
The heart beats strong when red is shed
Upon the clean white page
And killer thoughts and deadly musings
Are free to run with rage
 
The pen is gripped, but so are you
And there's no turning back
No dos or don'ts, just anarchy
Red Ink's a maniac!
 
There's no control as you bare your soul
In spurts of truth and lies and pain
Seeping, oozing, gushing through
The nib, an open vein
 
--
When complete, though hardly neat
The job is done, I can't deny
For Red Ink has done its duty;
It strikes the heart and strikes the eye
 
(I choose to muse in pencil
Or in simple black or blue
But Red Ink has its purpose
Perhaps you see that too)

Inkredwriting

◄ The Life of a Bull

From Whence We Came ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message