Patti Masterman


No Cure - Poem by Patti Masterman

We are the leaden statues,
Who creak the world with comings and goings.
Fate lies ponderous beneath our feet,
Our will of basalt, grip of iron.

Our pasts rise high, like a mountain range
That obscures well the clouded future;
They say we're divine, the offspring of gods-
Or else a rust, on worn-out sutures.


Comments about No Cure by Patti Masterman

  • Silver Star - 3,353 Points Smoky Hoss (6/24/2014 7:52:00 PM)

    ... this is what I love 'bout yer poems! ... makes me ponder, from the soul... I like it. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Friday, June 20, 2014



[Hata Bildir]