Frailty is your beauty.
Your inbuilt obsolescence
drives me to maintain you,
to hold you.
To protect you from the progress,
it comes in words.
It comes in boxes,
like a gift not chosen,
but forced upon you,
as life itself is.
A jack in the box,
a trick can of worms,
You wait until you are opened.
In stasis,
awaiting some momentary joy.
Gone too soon,
a heartbeat not followed by another.
I was not the first to touch you,
I will not be the last to hold you.
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Author:
Yorke (
Offline) - Published: November 20th, 2015 02:47
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: sonnetelectric7413, melisa alpizar.
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Comments2
OMG what a beautiful poem
you have a lot of talent
Thank you, I just write about how I feel. Thanks for your reply.
that was beautifully written
Thank you very much.
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