Etching out words for a thrill, the ink was dripping from the end of my quill. smokey residue of the fire in the grill glowing embers like small rubies in ash
Etching out words for my so called therapy , but really I'm seeking empathy, candles on its last legs and the desk is my substitue for my bed.
Etching out words to make a difference. All we need is the deliverence. One day I will be read to a room, maybe even loved I will for now presume.
©benfish41
B