When the mind was numbed with a faraway thought,
When my tongue failed to convey my emotions
The pain flowed in ink from the tip of the pen
And page wept under the weight of heavy words
The words were printed and the book was sold.
A reader read it felt a pang, passed it on,
And thus the ache travelled carried across time and distance.
I still wonder - was it my craft
Or the rawness of emotion
That left a lasting mark?
