Wolf Blood

There’s only one letter

Separating ‘Autistic’ and ‘Artistic’

There’ something in that

And my family call me

‘The Creative One’

Maybe I was doomed from the start

Destined for madness

The Van Gogh of the neighbourhood

Bohemia and tears

They say ‘Art is Pain’

So I bleed on the page

Croon away on the 6 string

And process my pain

Turning nightmares into daydreams

My art is my redemption

Two books, the songs written and forgotten

And too many poems to count

It’s my way of being useful

Not just a waste of space

And maybe the words and melodies

Will someday mean something

To someone

Old flames, future children

Grand children and other ex-cons

They say art is pain

So I bleed on the page

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