I don’t need to hate you
To find the bittersweet motivation to write

It’s a well I drink from
In my own backyard
Where shadows stand tall
And memories flee upon sunrise

No, I don’t need you
Yes, you feed the fire

But what’s a writer to do
When ambers remain
Where once there was a pyre

I’d die for the perfect rhyme
But mother nature, nor father time
Can decide when those fates will collide
And I don’t need you to write poetry, alright
I’ll be fine without you
In life and paper

You don’t have the right
To drain the ink
From my bloodstream

Only mine own demons
Have that privilege

– – –
Jason Brain