A slate, a slate, and blank (not so),
Before suns set in silent shows.
Erasers of the cosmic flow-
Where does all the chalk dust go?
Waxing, waxing blank (again);
With rising of a timely friend,
All the 'mal-' was made to mend-
Where does all the chalk dust go?
A slate, a slate, and dusty (white),
A speckle of them shine at night.
If sins are stars to send us light,
I know where all the chalk dust goes.
Author notes
Fun. It just appeared out of nowhere. Any imagery problems, please message me for clarification. I understand that this one is a bit abstract. I had a wee spot o' trouble with the meter- any suggestions would be appreciated.
A note for 'mal-' in line 7; 'mal-' indicates the bad things that happened the day prior- it is a prefix that indicates 'bad' or 'poor'. Also means 'bad' or 'poor' in Spanish ("mal"). It was quite fitting and kept with the alliteration in that line. I liked it. I kept it.
Constructive criticism is always welcomed and encouraged!
Mr. Comment Box doesn't want this poem to be erased from his slate. Help him keep it here by anchoring it with comments!
Comments
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This is so cute! And i just had to comment, even though you showed it to me the other night. XD Anyway i said it then, and i'll say it again. Tis is great. Yay Rinny!
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I love this poem. Good job on it cause I know I would have never been able to come up with something like this; which is why I make you edit my stuff! I love how you get these random poems in your head and in the end they always make sense. Great job.
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I love the way you comment on every single piece I come out with. I think only...hm... one other person has ever read all of them, and he hasn't commented a lick. Well, once. Whatever.
THANK YOU, DEAR!!! -
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*In a little tune* We-l-come!
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