The Writer
by McCutcheon
I am in a lonely place
A shoe box in a closet
A coffin
Where unpublished novels
Go to die
The writer already died
Way before the books
Drinking
Himself to his death
Suicide slide
The words he wrote
Never seemed to fit
Love
Was the greatest thing
Left on it’s own
A shoe box in a closet
A coffin
Where unpublished novels
Go to die
The writer already died
Way before the books
Drinking
Himself to his death
Suicide slide
The words he wrote
Never seemed to fit
Love
Was the greatest thing
Left on it’s own