why does pain

glimmer behind my eyes?

why does love

escape my every thought?

why can’t the poems

of those from long ago

offer me advice:

tranquility in words?

why can’t i find a way

to make my brain

go silent, the way

it’s described in books?

great poets of

the past,

aid me in life

and every thought,

show me a way

in which to live my life

outside the sight

of the men who wish

to harm me,

to live my life

outside the sight

of women who wish

to kill me.

oh great poets,

save me from

this unpoetic

world