Words spring from a well,
Whose flow never seems to fill my contentment,
Teetering madly on my lips,
They never seem to come out right.
So perfectly formed these flashes of brilliance,
Tucked within glimmering streams,
And so imperfect the only eyes bearing witness,
That I fear their ruin if they escape me.
I betray myself if they do.
So in my head these thoughts must stay,
Trickling by me as I stretch a feeble hand to catch them,
And you will never know.
A contest entry
- Random Thoughts by Random Thoughts.
1000 points, ended September 23, 2007, 30 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Awesome,
This has such a high impact finish it was fantastic,
I could relate to that uncomfortable feeling of frustration as thoughts clammer around searching fora suitable escape,
Well done and thanks for the entry, best of luck to you in this contest,
-Brenden -
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Thank you so much for your thoughtful comment
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Excellant/imaginative/intriguing
Perhaps, the ink in the well, will come out drop by drop and form images of words upon the paper. None-the-less, very well written indeed.
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