Take me to the lakes where poets drown,
So I can stare at the dead reflections of poets with similar yearnings,
So they can gaze into my tired eyes and find the same hunger.
I want to weep and tell them I fed my yearnings hope and it turned into hunger.
Hope make you weak, hunger makes you weep
A hungry child, a hungry lover, a hungry poet.
Where do the unloved with an insatiable appetite go?
To the lakes where poets drown- where the graves still float,
So you can hop onto them and wear their words like new skin,
So they can describe your hunger to the world.
So they can described your hunger to you.
YOU ARE READING
Take Me To The Lakes Where Poets Drown.
PuisiTwo roads diverged in a yellow wood, And I took the wrong road And it has made all the difference.
