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Posted by
on Thursday, January 19 @ 05:55:30 UTC
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: Treasure
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on Thursday, January 19 @ 05:55:30 UTC
mattcharnock writes:: " "Here's to the end"
He shouts with a voice of chipped grey concrete
dancing down the path and turning, turning away
from the faces lit by orange street lamps.
I listened and tried to hold in my hand
The feeling, the light of what may lay ahead
But it dripped through my fingers and burned
through the floor and vanished into the earth beneath the earth.
I walked on with a sunken head and craned neck,
hands buried in my pockets, hiding from the sun, feeling for treasure,
which I never put in there.
I turned corners
I walked and wanted to rekindle the lust that youth had given me, in a mahogony box lined with silk and wrapped in ribon.
But I buried that box and burned the map. "
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Re: Treasure (Score: 1)
by BodhiTree (burningbright2@aol.com) on Thursday, January 19 @ 17:33:12 UTC
(User Info | Send a Message) | Honestly, this is the first poem I have read of your's that was actually to the point.......this one is understandable, in otherwards.
I like this, its honest and lucid....(as I have said).
However, I think you need to elaborate on some of the concepts in the poem, like the map and box.....I see where you got the idea but the poem seems as if it is just a few lines incomplete.
Nicole |
- Re: Treasure by MattCharnock on Friday, January 20 @ 12:59:16 UTC
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