A Poet’s Death

by Joanna

I try to write

And write

And write

Yet it is as though

You have even hijacked 

My mind’s words

Each poem still speaks 

Of the injuries to my being

Careless in casting

Dire in consequence

All sorrows

Continue to bleed

Though I am pressing on the wound

The days travel forward now

I am where I want to be

Finding new ways to smile

Yet the joys

I once felt 

For the written words

Bursting from my pen

My fingertips


In fact


All over again