National Poetry Month (Poem #4)

Art Form: Writing
Genre/Type: Poetry

In honor of National Poetry Month, I will be attempting to write one poem a day.

Epitaph by Kuamel Stewart

Dear Writer,

The lamp shone on me last night and I was made aware that my death is imminent,
I’m running out of my life’s blood and our rapport is coming to the end of it
From the haiku's’ to the memoirs, it has truly been a pleasure,
From the first the time I saw you through the plastic, to this last letter

Took my virginity in the third grade,
And when fiery arguments left smoke in your house, I let you scribe your rage
Filled books and books, and left anecdotes of raw truth in between the lines of the page
It’s comforting to know that for eight years, I was being held by a budding sage

Remember back in the day when we reminisced about how that girl who used to doubt you,
Despite her pessimism we made journal entries about how the challenge was ideal for arousal,
Had unrequited love in your adolescence, and although that youthful purview was present,
From what we put down, it seemed like you suffered from unadulterated love in its essence

Conjured thoughts on nights when the clock read a.m. and the heat from the radiator had ran
Became nocturnal beings attempting to put a moratorium on the asinine thoughts of man
Went from vowel to consonant that morphed into syllables and became words
Leaped bounds of hate and became constant tidings that evolved into phrases of hope pregnant with nouns and verbs

Saw your truth and light with each and every day that you used me
Swelled with pride after you signed journal entries and prayed that the next day you would abuse me
Just knew that your recordings would be an inspiration to many
Just happy to be the device of your choice and submit to you the liquid that runs in me

Some days you went without me and you lied hopelessly on your bed void of thought
Knew that the block infected in your mind, but trusted your soul not to get caught
When those gloomy days loomed on the horizon and the sun hid from our window
The source of light emitted from what we created and I was proud to see the words glow

Glad you never stopped because a pocket can become lonely
Pushed ball-points out of your Levi’s because I wanted to be your one and only
Though it is impossible for us to always be together
The infinite amount of pieces we devised will be etched in the lore of history forever

So this is one last letter and this time its you being addressed
Quite different from when I was being used to imprint an address
I love you writer and after all that we’ve experienced I can finally put my heart to rest
Just so glad Ms. Wright gave you that pack when you had nothing else to use for the test

Signed,
The Pen

P.S.:
Tell the paper to be still.