The Word Smith

Writing and the writer

THE WORD SMITH
(Life of the poet)

In cryptic rhymes I walk a path
To reveal to all a twisted art
In timeless verse I bear my soul
To speak of things I can’t control

Bound in verse I free my mind
With pen and paper, lost in time
Torn In thought words play their game
But what spills forth is to no one’s gain

In writer’s ink like tears before
I lay in trust to be no more
In words fall prey thy criticism
Yet reveal an inward vision

What it is to be held true?
To give to some a different view
Wisdom's price in dues I’ve paid
A crippled mind now rests betrayed

My works repent now spoken true
Hidden scripts in plain view
Twist you must to understand
The wordsmiths curse

Will shape the land.