Tortured Poets

The tortured poets tend to do that right?

Scribble and scribble and scribble a little more,

To get the art out of their heartbreak,

One poem, one song, one day at a time,

Punishing their hearts to bear a little extra,

To not let the pain go in vain.

Isn't it kind of a love language,

Writing poetry for them even when they are not going to read it?

But secretly hoping that they do,

That they realise that these words are for them too,

Along with all those scribbled earlier,

Writing everything without really saying it out loud,

Poetry written from the broken pieces of heart that still loves,

Creating metaphors like never before,

Because it hasn't felt like that ever before,

Torturing everyone alike,

Except that one person,

Who might read it but not claim to like.

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