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Open Poetry #41
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Tomer
Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168
Michigan

0 posted 2007-12-16 01:27 AM




I believe what I see,
What I dream to be blue
With curls that drought
The floors plateau,

I believe this person to be me,
To be upon a merchants path,
Only a sculpture standing,
With the words tied
Behind my back,
Like a boy that leans for his fathers grasp.

What am I?
A statue of limitations,
Without a tongue,
Surrendering the whims
Of my sun of words
That con my purest thoughts
So much like I sit
Betrayed by my thoughts.


© Copyright 2007 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved
Margherita
Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236
Eternity
1 posted 2007-12-16 09:36 AM


What am I?
A statue of limitations,
Without a tongue,
Surrendering the whims
Of my sun of words
That con my purest thoughts
So much like I sit
Betrayed by my thoughts.


You write well!

Love,
Margherita

Artic Wind
Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 8080
Realm of Supernatural
2 posted 2007-12-16 09:53 AM


Never seen you poems before, happy I found them

ARCTIC WIND

passing shadows
Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577
displaced
3 posted 2007-12-16 12:16 PM


cool write


Tomer
Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168
Michigan
4 posted 2007-12-17 12:17 PM


Thanks for the support, happy you enjoy Arctic.

Tomer

TomMark
Member Elite
since 2007-07-27
Posts 2133
LA,CA
5 posted 2007-12-17 12:32 PM


very good. very good.
love the end.
Tom

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