By Ink or By Blood

(photo by me)

The hardest part about being a poet,
The reason why artists struggle,
Is because we spend our lives trying in vain,
To find purpose,
When clay was in our hands this whole time.

With no idea how to mold it,
And no teachers to guide it,
The fear eventually takes over,
And the clay turns to dust.

The fear replaces the heart of an artist,
As they try and never succeed,
To feel fit in.

So they write poems,
With hopes and longing for ink.

By ink or by blood the fear must come out.