The weave I wear over my life
was woven on an ancient loom
by ancestral hands so diligent, tired and withered,
carefully creating such an elegant fashionable façade,
ensuring nobody knowing how truly frail was its form.
So easily shredded if you dared to test its material,
which is why we only let it be seen from a distance,
never allowing anyone to get close enough
to discover it was made of gossamer fibers,
having no strength nor substance beyond appearance.
However, we got used to the precarious feel
it did cover the blemishes so well,
as long as you didn’t question the source of the fabric
we could all live in our wardrobe bliss,
with nobody knowing the material
was grown and stolen from another’s land,
cleverly handled so no one will detect that reality,
because you can’t maintain the feeble illusions of purity
unless you keep that delicate lace
away from anywhere that it might tear.
Author notes
Prompt: Delicate derivations
A contest entry
- Opening Lines Prompt by SandhyaSuri.
930 points, ended February 27, 2009, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
Thanks for your entry and good luck with the contest!
The prompt is supposed to be the opening lines of the poem. Please consider revising.
I love the poem you have written - there is a load of information subtly passed on with lovely imagery! Very delicate indeed!
Cheers
Sandy
-
a wonderful take on the promt good luck in the contest
maralisa
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