Why Do I Write?A Poem by EnjoyI bleed viscous black ink on the white skin in front of me, for days on end to no avail. Arterial passages construct and branch but never come together in a single system. Why do I write? When I am old, grey and decrepit will the words I score now carry me into the grave with a merry shadow? Will they give me love in my dying days? Why do I write? © 2011 EnjoyReviews
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10 Reviews Added on July 17, 2011 Last Updated on July 17, 2011 |

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