There was once pain, but I’m now elated!
Relieved (and clearly sedated)!
I alone celebrate my words dismissing
those of others as not right.
My seeds are fertile. I sow them; they hurdle
to new soils. I empty my heart and soul
with new, naked and revealing words
and on occasion, I flip them the bird.
I don’t care. You see, I toil for me.
© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik, 2014
Written in response to:
WHO REALLY CARES?
Here in pain I sit, sedated,
with no relief for me in sight.
Words of mine, once celebrated
are now dismissed as less than bright.
I sow my seed in other fields
to see the interest these words yield.
An empty soul, who really cares
about the heart that these words bare?
© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik, March 2013
THROUGH THE EYES OF A POET'S HEART 