I Would No Longer Write

I would no longer write

For what good does it do

If it kills those long dead,

And plead the love that’s come and gone.

 

I would no longer write

For what good does it do

If it makes me long for tragedies,

To write about what pinches the heart.

 

I would no longer write

For what good does it do

If it fills my eyes and stains my clothes

With blood and tears in endless streams.

 

I would no longer write

But I know it’s a lie,

For as long as the earth is moving,

So does my pen in writing.

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