when the words are gone
When the words are gone,
The poet cries out the wrong.
Ink running from the eyes,
Spilling out both truth and lies.
The poet cries out the wrong,
For the words were there all along,
Spilling out both truth and lies
Falling gently into lines.
For the words were there all along,
Hidden like a note within a song.
Falling gently into lines,
Around the soul it winds.
Hidden like a note within a song,
When the words are gone,
The poet’s tears are like rain,
Spilling out both truth and lies again.
Great poem as always!
thank you.
I’m not sure of the name for your format/style of poem here Patti, but you managed the words very cleverly…
pantoam is the form. and thank you.