“Not a Poet”

I am not a poet
I am simply a man
Absorbing life, and
I have a pen in hand
I may write my pains away
I hope to, anyway
Or, I may scribble moments of happiness
Into my days
Imagine it so, will I?—no,
I am not a poet,
Yet, when I feel hurt,
I expose its face
It seems determined to break me
However, things are their own delight
Pain is … unique
As my pain is inscribed, on the leaf
Its face becomes clear, and
Relief moves steadily my way—
There I am, withstanding the bleak—hence, find me
Gone
Talking to myself,
In ink

Written By, Darkest Angel
Written November 3, 1991
(Rewritten March 7, 2010)