Tell me, is it the sign of a writer
to see tragedy in everything?
In the purposeful stride that falters when it turns a corner
In the slumped shoulders of an otherwise straight profile
In the eyes that are the deepest shade of regret
in the smile that cracks on the edges
excuse me, but can a writer save them?
tell me what can be done when
(not if) I become
just one of these masterful
trudging tragedies
not victims in, just livers of,
life
Alexzia Ferdinand
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/excuse-me-but-writers-can-t-be-heroes/
