Words Left Unsaid | Poetry

A writer's poem

forgive her

black-inked fingers,

for she loves

to write what's

in her head.

Tragedy, angst

and maybe the

monsters under

her bed.

For she cannot

afford to tell what

needs to be said.

And only a pen

and a paper can

tell you what

she really felt.

Forgive her

messed-up thoughts,

for she loves

hiding her secrets

between her poem's

line or two.

So if you ever

get to read her poems,

always be aware

for a clue.

Who knew,

maybe she'll be

needing someone

like you.

And by that maybe

someday,

you can be her

paper too.