Pain Sells

In the many words of a failing man

The audience of some give him a hand

The enemy of true art

Is the absence of a broken heart

In the deepest cracks of the deepest wells

Soon you will find that only pain sells

Carry on with the will to be happy

In your sovereign hopeless family

No one left to share the tales you tell

In darkness realize only that of pain sells

Pain is sold off the shelves and love waits

Many of times the sadness creeps in all traits

The soldier of death

Is often the leader of your every breath

Your heart can speak and it says you fell

The only thing left to do is write and try to sell

Can you forget your pain and try to say die

Watching as the happiness of life passes by

Every book has to have it’s page and script

Sadness turns to joy when that page is ripped

Where happiness fades darks shines out

Nothing captures the mind like the silent shout

The rogue heart is heard

When the good of men are some forgotten words

You might think you can make it with glee

Come clean to your self take a look at me

Death is the new life that fills every store

From an author who couldn’t take anymore

Sadness comes and goes but is rarely done

What’s the point in writing if it is always fun

We may live and our love may die

Hope is truly lost as the strong don’t try

Nemesis of love is pain

You see the sun when you push for every rain

I look from each point time to time

And each poem has a new meaningful rhyme

Pain sells and happiness slowly fades

Not black nor white but gray area shades

Gladness is ok and sometimes does so well

But every poet knows that pain is what sells