Sunday, September 7, 2014

Like a badge

Poets wear their pain like a badge
seen by others, only the wearer feels
the tip of the pin near its breast
under his shirt throbbing, it is a reminder
of existence, a marker of the fight
for a slot among the normally unnatural
those who hear music and interpret it into words
those who hear words and interpret them music, lyrics and light
All one shade of mad, poets make of their pain a shape,
give it a false name, smile at it during cocktail parties
and store the sting away, for lighter days

No comments:

Post a Comment