Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

poetry hurts
in every
way and form
poetry of life
is ded
if life is dead and gone

in the days when I could
you could be a love
and it is gone and left
and your head hurts and
so does mine
no jial will cure
no hopes
hopes hurt you
hopes hurt you

you asre nothing but a thing
dead and un
intersting
a loser
a lost soul
a loser
a loser gone and dead
nothing
nothing
a distant memory

poetry is a blood sport
or so it seems to me sometimes