I, Who

I, who write verse every day,
rather that I could take pain away.
I'd put down the pen without a thought
and trade it away for the pain that was brought
to you.

I, who write songs every day,
rather that I could have you say
'I'm well, I'm well. I'm good again.'
I'd give it all up, these songs, this pen
for you.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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