~The Poet’s Poet~
Not a drop of ink will you spill
Until you bite the bullet take that pill
There really is little time to spare
Dig deep unearth those wordy gems.
Genre does not really matter
Crawl out from underneath that stone
Think on the divine image you wish to create
Troubled, outlandish, empowering, it’s in your hands.
Don’t think yourself a bit player
Contemplate instead on soothsayer
Step away from misery hill
Feel the energy, go for the kill.
Leave aside thoughts of meter and such like
Don’t write for posterity, write for yourself
Now put this in a sealed envelope, then post
Don’t be surprised when you open it – I certainly wasn’t.
© Chris Black. January 2019