The end

With many tears falling he became overcome by sadness and a sense of foreboding so he started looking all around him, what he found was a world that was so full of anger and hate that it could no longer listen to all the ink that he was spilling causing all of the words he had been writing to vanish before they could even splash down onto the pages, the man thought for a few moments then shook his head as he started to write one last thing before he laid his pen down upon on his desk listen for something any sound at all standing so very still it looked like he was frozen in time finally giving up he walked over opened the door glanced one last time at his desk that he spent half his at then closed and locked it from the other side and walked away slowly towared the setting sun, what he  wrote was, 

"A soul will always tell secrets to a heart that talk about where love still lives it is what poetry is, but the problem today is nobody has the time to talk anymore so love never gets a chance to grow but instead dies right there on the limb, and without love hate cannot exist unless lust is involved which mask itself as love nowadays causing our emotions to slowly fade away into nothingness, therefore without a heart and or soul a Poets ink will no longer flow so our kind become extinct. 

The end.

Poet Richard M Knittle Jr.

A Poet's Journey

A Texas Poet Laureate Nominee 2016-2020