Some poems rage through me
like a flame across a matchhead.
While others must be plucked,
word by excruciating word,
from my flesh.
Delivered through the soul from above
or dredged from the depths within,
it is but mine, in that moment, to give.
Expressed though it may be,
in a crude array of meter and rhyme,
this is my vision passed to you,
written as life has given measure.
~ elr
Image: ID 115723447 © Olexandr Taranukhin | Fotolia