I molded your form
To match a cold heart.
A twin gaze of marbles
Representing disregard.
The upraised pinions
Mocking a lack of spirit.
A smile you have not
Why would you want it?
To love a thing of such beauty
From the dirt at your feet.
Such beauty entrancing
A fitting end, I think.
I gave you granite
To match a cold shoulder.
I placed you at a grave
Because you won't care anyway.
And who would remember?
A contest entry
- The Chosen Ones by HerbalGoat.
300 points, ended May 27, 2007, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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amazing
sometimes you realy bowl me over with something you write


