A queen with a pen
Can kill a man times ten
If that's what she so chooses
She procures the tool as her gun
Will not stop shooting until she has won
Her words are her only bullets.
Ink flows like poison onto the page
With its intense colors of despair and rage
She writes what she feels
And feels what she writes
She does it to keep the demons out of sight
The pen is sharp as a knife
Cutting with each scribble of strife
Within her prose she delivers the blows
With the cap back on, it is a viper in wait
Always ready to explode out of the gate
Year:
2017
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