Words are the only art form she can muster
& they flow timid on the paper
[stars.scars.candy.cyanide]
Nothing makes any sense,
But at least everything has its place
In her words.
[Categorised and spell-checked,
Like a child on her First Day
With mummy’s eyes a-sparkle.]
But children grow up and inward
While mummy’s eyes go rheumy.
Little children learn words and actions
And create poems and problems
Of their own.
[In a world less-than-perfect,
Why strive for anything more?]
Author notes
Written 18.6.08
By CatSlash;; fresh write.
[First day of School Blues]
Option 1: Pictures;; Postsecret: Breathe Me by tolistenbyheart
&&
Option 6: Dirrty-Pretty
A contest entry
- Lots Of Options by stargazer..
525 points, ended December 27, 2008, 33 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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