Imperfections of little things, a sliver of glass, a splinter of wood, the cry of an ugly child, the simple, simple little things that dig into our natures,
Carving their miniscule niche,
With broken fervor,
Sweating their sweet fever,
Like a porous stone,
The shifty eyed stranger
The discarded garment
That's simply been worn too long.
The seconds, the minutes, the hours that creep by when we aren't looking, Forbid the years their soundless passage, We can't abide our trivial trappings,
A bit of jute string,
Little plastic pieces of a young girl's dreams,
The elegant things-
Like dinner and parties and driving fast cars,
Because its a rythymless world,
With two left feet,
Because there are things that go unmentioned, cheap thrills and expensive conquests, soft sheets and dry cleaning, there are workers, there are worthless, there are people just like the movies.
A contest entry
- Awaken my Mind by Silent Cougar.
950 points, ended May 28, 2007, 27 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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It is the little things that count and people take for granted. Great analogies you are on the right path
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now this is a differnet sort of write, and yes, it did make me wake and think towards what was being said. A good piece all in all, thank you for entering.
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