Sorry I've been gone so long, I was on vay-k. Anyway, I'm feeling s**tty today. Here's one that I cooked up, fresh from the ovens of hell.The Insanity of Being SaneI feel the need to act in hate,To with a devilish grin,Let the world appreciate,The demon I am within.To in anger lash out,In desperation take hold,To clear up the doubt,With horrors untold.What could they do,Or think, or say,To wound me deeper,Than they have this day?What in the world,Could be worse than this?This hateful prison,This miserable bliss?To be born a martyr,A bodily freak,And instinctually hate,The very goals that you seek.To despise yourself,With undisputable spite,For doing what you know,Is the only thing right.Could you survive it?Could you stand tall?Could you take pride,In taking the fall?I doubt that you could,I know that youd fall,In fact I doubt standing,Would be an option at all.The title, which will confuse most of you because you don't understand the back story, has special meaning to me. Don't question it, I wrote this poem for me.
I'm not sure how often fang is on, logic. If you don't mind, I could answer your question... as much as anyone can. We're all different. Some of us take forever to write something, for some, it just comes naturally. For me... it depends on my mood, the weather, the lighting... lol. Some just flow right off the pen, others take work to get them where I want them. Writers like Moloch just write them down as it comes to them. That, I think, is more rare than it is common. Did that help at all??