The misery of creation

Angst chosen one

The misery of creation

Anguish is a poet’s friend
It sweeps to their fingers in robotic waves
Gives life to blank pages
Keeps them up all night
Fuels the flames of a sensitive soul
An observer of life locked up in a tower
By their own thwarted desire

Embrace it, encase it and use all its power
To quieten the noise that rages inside
Put it on paper, get it all out
Now you feel better, the fire is all gone
That’s really all that needs to be done
A poet without anguish is a painter without paint
A colourless picture without any depth

Michelle Cadby 15.4.2013

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