Treasure Island

Peter S. Quinn


Frail


Frail is the seed of earth
With every falling's time
Day and day by growing's worth
Till it reaches prime

Fair but frail like every rose
That into the morning shines
Away your petal then goes
As fate draws its wilting lines

Submitted: Tuesday, July 22, 2008

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Comments about this poem (Frail by Peter S. Quinn )

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  • Maria Isabel Oropeza (7/22/2008 10:57:00 AM)

    Nicely done. Though short, it has great detail which is more than what i can say for some poets on here, sometimes including myself. :)
    Best of luck!
    Elizabeth (Report) Reply

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