|
Menu
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
Threadbearer
Contributed by
screwge
on
Monday, 14th July 2008 @ 03:07:25 AM in AEST
Topic:
anguished
|
The strings are on guard, all taut,
Imposing and stilted as iron wrought.
If you pulled just one, I’d have a souvenir –
And like a guitar, I’d be able to hear
The tugging --
Your mug all contorted, your face smugging
Out a billboard for this corset.
Well, I could not endorse it
With inexpungible furor --
With a boost in the mirror.
So many times I have sung a carol
While rummaging through apparel,
Looking for heart-suspended dress,
Only to find it innately heartless
Because so many times you tackle the pith
And find that its strength is a myth.
Sometimes in the glimpse
Of a dimple
Newfound lameness limps.
The creases cut like a wimple
Seem to advocate their ruse.
But yet I have been weaving
With their humble blues,
And I too took to deceiving.
For, I often stagger
From happenstance rocks
That trip up my swagger
Like thick-toed socks.
Copyright ©
screwge
... [
2008-07-14 03:07:25] (Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment. That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
|