Life of a writer

[blitztactics07]

As I grip my pen harder
My life gets weaker and slender
For I have nothing left to ponder
The crowd claps their hands
While I look far beyond the distant lands
People search for a light
And often they reach above their height
Until they are lost from our sight
I suffer from day till night
Black ink and my blood are my cousins
I have them around me by dozens
Intelligence and being assiduous
Are things that we canâEUTMt take with us
When we take the last bus
What a cruel world I live in
Full of prejudice and hatred din
My paper and pen are my only companions
Writing make us feel like champions
But itâEUTMs a risk all must take
Clean off all useless thoughts with that rake
And have a heart as wide as a lake
I wish to be buried in a lake full of ink
Maybe that will help me thinkâEU¦

[jhypsyshah]

That's an interesting title, ya got there. I just wanted to say that I hope you use this a start and keep going with it, where-ever it takes you..

I also wanted add that I personally liked how Casanova wrote about life. From a translated memoir, I got the impression that the man loved life. He wanted to live and seemed to write about it, as if he was reliving it..larger than life.

I like alot of things but pardon my insanity and carry on. XD

[blitztactics07]

At 1/24/13 04:39 PM, jhypsyshah wrote: That's an interesting title, ya got there. I just wanted to say that I hope you use this a start and keep going with it, where-ever it takes you..

I also wanted add that I personally liked how Casanova wrote about life. From a translated memoir, I got the impression that the man loved life. He wanted to live and seemed to write about it, as if he was reliving it..larger than life.

I like alot of things but pardon my insanity and carry on. XD

Thanks man, just came outta my mind one day. I think it's after reading Wordsworth's "Tintern Abbey." And I've come across what you've mentioned earlier; indeed, life is something to love, but it can also be said that whether one's hungry, cold, or at the verge of death, humans ought to be lonely in the end. Of course, we all do wish to relive a life that we had/have regrets on. I wonder why there's more than one definition of "meaning of life" :D