Mathew Thomas


Made Of Stone - Poem by Mathew Thomas

After the war,
Minus two fingers,
With two fingers of scotch,
To forget my loss,
and drown my sorrow.

With one to go,
The barmaid walked up,
Will you have one more?
Looked up and said, let it be so,
One for the road.

Its closing time she said,
Downed my sorrow,
Got up,
And tottered a little,
With steady hands she held my arm.

Walked me to the door,
And she whispered I love you,
Show me your heart,
She put her hand in the pocket
And brought out a heart, made of stone.

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© Mathew Thomas

Comments about Made Of Stone by Mathew Thomas

  • (8/30/2012 9:04:00 AM)


    It is a futile exercise if we search for hearts outside our own dear and near ones. Love is a mirage if sought in the desert of humans unknown.The lady in the poem is a replica of the world real but not disheartening either. Your want of the hour is the villain here. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Poem Edited: Monday, August 27, 2012


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