Writers

There have been many dead souls

Living before me and you.

They were the starving writers

Of their times, never stopping

To give up on their dreams,

While they wrote and typed away

On their ancient typewriters.

They forgot about the pain

Deep within their empty stomachs;

They forgot their pangs of starvation

As they inhaled their ink blotted fingers,

Words and letters fluttering their eyelids

As they exhaled all their emotions etched

On their faces and engraved in their hearts.