INK II
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Words flowing
Like a fountain of oil
Ink
From the mind
Covering all in script
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I cannot contain
The fount of ink
Blackens out the page
With darkened letters
Words poisoned
Ink stained
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Reading what was written
I find nothing but the unforgiveable
Ink smudges on my hand
On my face, crawling in
Sanity bending whim
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Ink
A simple thing
Sitting in a jar
Take it out
And madness
Is not far
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Ink.
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6/25/20 โ Andy McRae
This poem revisits the idea of Ink being this powerful force. Here is the original INK