It is said by those who are strange
That Hell is the feeling of inspiration
with an inability of express it.
And Heaven: From beginning to end
is the perfect poem written,
in one stroke of a pen.
These are the one's we call...
Strange!
Strange are the one's with ink in their veins.
Strange are the one's who's fingertips
are stained.
Strange are the one's who can't sleep at night
Strange is the passsion that drives them
to write.
Strange are one's who use language
as a tool,
Strange as some that hated English
in school.
Strange are the one's let go for writing
on the job,
Lost their inspiration, Damn they got robbed.
Strange are the one's now with time
on their hands, looking for a sympathetic listener who understands.
Strange are the many things that go unexplained,
Strange are the one's called poet by name.
Strange!
The only description for those
with words to sell.
Strange for only with time, do their stories
prevail.
The romantic pictures they paint,
the epic adventures they tell.
Strange is why they share their raptures
of heaven or their exploits in hell.
Strange is why they take you with them,
Wherever
They
dwell.
Strange.
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Submission Name: Strange!
