Down to business –
you have a choice
of traps in which
to while your lungs away.
I can build you
a jade and ivory
gold-smeared prison,
with bars to hang
your head
and sing through.
There will be
no heat,
no hand to hold,
but clear air
and a chance
to shout for help.
Or I can hold you
forever and stroke
you forever
and you will always
be warm –
but voiceless
and only half-real,
stamped on my palms
like a story only I’m
allowed to tell.
Author notes
Inspired by the picture here: http://allpoetry.com/contest/2420273
This isn't actually a prewrite. I just screwed up with the entering ><
A contest entry
- Tears Ran Dry, Echoes Of Sadness (( Give Me Dark, Creepy, Sad, Cutting, Suicide, Ex.)) by HereComesTheSun.
550 points, ended September 14, 2008, 50 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
great take on the picture
many wont choose this option but i love the way you took it on
great poem so many way to take it
welcome to finalist list
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