Open Poetry #47 |
White On White |
A Beautiful Disaster Member
since 2007-01-13
Posts 409 |
Blank papers of bitter today Do treasure the words white on white; If they are forbidden to say, Then my privilege is to write. I choke on the poison I've drunk, The root of my love is in grief; I'm learning the foreigners' tongue To perpetuate my belief. The strength of my weakness denies The myth only half proven true; The lines that I can't recognize One day were composed by you. The sequel could come to an end, But sanity claims it's too late, I take all the pain to defend The worlds my illusions create. |
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© Copyright 2011 April A. - All Rights Reserved | |||
JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Whoa! This is like a jigsaw puzzle, and a very intricate and special one at that. You give us lines that tease us on to the next line, and there you mischievously steer us into a new direction as we chase the words back unto themselves. ~~ Those who are silent are the first to be shot. ~~ |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California |
Wow, intriguing as it is beautiful. Your words flow elegantly. A pleasure to read. Michael |
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