She sunk further in to the mess she, so beautifully, created,
Every fissure carved out with love,
Every hammer rammed through with passion,
Every cut traced out and made with precision,
Meticulous detailing of the cracks,
Scratched out blue wallpaper…
She breathed the mess through her soul and it came to be!
Her inspiration, you ask?
Oh! nothing really,
Just her heart.
Just her old, tattered, torn, little heart.
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| mitchellez on Rich |
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| mitchellez on Rhythm Of The Rain |
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Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
So simple, so moving, so thought provoking I really admire the way you describe the actions then tell us it’s not what we thought, brilliant
December 27, 2013 at 12:16 am
Thanks! 🙂
December 27, 2013 at 12:39 am
very well written – beautiful work
December 27, 2013 at 1:22 am
Thank you!
December 27, 2013 at 9:08 am
Hi! I dig the rhythm of your verse, it’s almost like jazz—very graceful, poignant and open-hearted. Keep writing and keep following your unique muse.
April 30, 2014 at 10:39 pm
Thanks much! 🙂
May 5, 2014 at 6:41 pm