Write Your Heart Out

I write with a quill,
I write when I'm bleeding,
the blood from the heart,
and the feeling still,
of a pain that starts,
with a bitter pill,

With a broken heart,
and the pain I've written,
of being pulled apart,
and the times,
I've been beaten,

Some call it magic,
some call it art,
To others it's tragic,
doomed from the start,

Loves lost,
and the pain they ensue,
but for the hurt it cost,
For that love so true,
A spark,
A cinder,
The start of a flame,
A cut of a knife,
to engrave a name,

Give your heart,
to someone true,
Hold them in your arms,
as they weep for you,
Rope around your neck,
knife in your hand,
Writing the words,
then try to understand,

As I put pen to paper,
it feels like,
nothing is more powerful,
Than a pen in hand,
as I place it to paper,
As my heart begins to pour,
and these words,
come out once more,

So read these poems,
and read them well,
each has a message,
From heaven or hell.

Copyright © 2011 John Bevan