She Spilled The Ink ✍️

She Spilled The Ink ✍️

She spilled the ink, the poem was lost,

Her dreams undone at careless cost.

Words bled out in shadowed streams,

Drowning hope and silencing dreams.

But on the page, a map took shape,

A story born of chance escape.

From broken lines, new worlds were spun—

The poem reborn, its song begun.

She turned this mess into art

With a poem beside it,

then she called it a poet’s art.

It sold for nearly a hundred quid,

To spill the ink was the best thing ever she did.