The buzzing of motor with burning hot pin,
the ink of the needle piecing my skin.
Injecting its payload inducing the pain,
tearing the skin and leaving its stain.
Violating my flesh; Vibrating the bone,
pressed into this chair all but alone.

Singing the needle, enjoying its chore
searing and tearing and leaving me sore.
The blood and the ink mixing to mark,
the warm and the black, the red and the dark.

The time it has passed, the flesh it is numb.
But what if it's true that tattooing is dumb.
I hope it's not crap I'll feel like a fool.

Nah! I have to admit, it looks pretty cool.