@the.wounded.quill: Once I was unable to speak. I viewed the world with one eye open, twice kissed by death. My lips tremble. They crave the kiss of sweet release, but the kiss escapes. I close both eyes to escape my mind. With both eyes closed, I hear their pleas. It is not about me. My eyes open. My lips remain haunted by her sweet kiss, cursed to do more until we meet again. Eyes opened. Hearing once more. My voice returns, singing her words. The world is no longer won upon the edge of a sword, but upon the tip of a pen. Give me your pens. Hear my voice. I opened my eyes and saw what we had built: farms built on data while the hungry cry, AI holding our dying hands, poisoned water seeps through our wells. Who will quench their thirst? I once did. And nearly died. I look to the blind in our digital divide the last to know, the ones who hurt the most. Are we forgotten? Is our country blind as I once was? My voice is now hoarse. So I wrote. We the people, we propose! My voice returns, louder now. The common man bears the weight. Heavy thoughts weigh upon my pen. So bring your pens and ease my weight. Only time may seal our fate. Wet ink on paper. Contract signed. My mind returns, yet my lips are bare. My hands can do no more. My pen is yours. #poetrystatus #poem #poet #writtenpoetry #darkpoetry

The Wounded Quill

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Region: US

Friday 30 October 2026 02:13:11 GMT