Write My Wrongs

I don't write the same anymore.​

The ink dries in a darker hue

of black than I remember.

The page is coarse with loss-

fighting against the nib it

welcomed, time and time again.

Words don't hold the same weight

They used to.

So much so

that they no longer settle and sit

in my hand.

A pen without inspiration fails to cut shit.

I'll pick up the sword again,

If I have to.

-Ridgeway Cole

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