The thoughts swirl more than matted hair and smart
With keener blades, remorseful too, but not.
The pot is full of tea greenish and steaming;
Unstylish grain is rough and legible
Where furniture won't polish - it feels so warm.
Her eyes are clear and so will stay. Today
She lives off. She is a crescent
In a scorched grassy bower; scree underfoot,
She will stroll in naked feet
As Taurus is ascending; She can hear
The world revolve.
Author notes
as a child i was shy unto psychopathy; here are some excuses i give meself.
A contest entry
- Silence and Tears by Sam-I-Am.
400 points, ended January 18, 2007, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Unusual
I, too was confused at first. Now I understand you are telling a personal story in your own way. I guess you can't comepletely understand it unless you've been there yourself. Best wishes in the contest. -
At first I dodn't quite understand this, but then I read your author's notes, and it makes sense now. A very well done, and good luck.
Midnigh
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