Catwalk Of Life
Faces of perfection,
Lined up for public disection,
Hustle, bustle of behind the scenes,
With lots of false affection,
Image, fashion, passions colliding,
Kisses on cheeks with feelings sliding,
Runway gliding, what a mesmerizing sight,
Like sunflowers reaching elegantly, to the blinding light,
Teaching us to reach high, with all our might,
No goodbyes or sighs,
Starting off, were pure white.
Were always on a catwalk,
Along the parade of ambitious talk,
Vanity explodes our sanity,
Smooth skin, satin sheen,
Wide eyed, liquid gold,
Spilling along the miles, of hard cold tiles,
Echoeing the truth, bouncing from the ears of youth,
Like ripened fruit.
The show of flesh might disappear,
With all our tarnished fears
For the dying of the crowds cheers,
Leaving us forlorn,
Its a sculpture, an art form,
Dazzles, turning heads,
Until darkness chases us into bed,
Anxiety winding tightly around us all,
We know we have to stand tall,
Because eventually time will bite,
As we wait nervously for our fall!
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Catwalk Of Life by Hazel Durham )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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