A Writers Story

After all that was done and said,

Abused and deserted.

After all that he had been through,

No one listened,so no one knew.

He was losing himself,

In this mad rush of time.

But to his rescue came an addiction,

No drug, no smoke or no wine.

But he fell in love with the words,

with all the pain,so divine.

He wished he could help himself,

But he was oh so lost,

Trying to find warmth in the barren frost.

He ran and ran and ran till his tired legs could,

And stopped when he knew he should.

Turned around to see a massive crowd,

A reminder of all his mistakes

and the heart throbbing drought.

But this time things were different

He decided to face.

He removed the pen cover,

His fears to the stuffer.

No longer he decided to Run,

His light brighter than the sun.

Shone upon the doomed life he lead,

And wrote till the precious fingers bled.

And out of all that he could write,

This was my favorite sight,

"Nothing in this mere world is perfect,

So just hunt what You Love get attached

to it and let it hurt every part of You,

let it come close to You and destroy You,

because you'll get attached,

be hurt and destroyed anyways

but it's the only thing that'll be worth it!"