Michael Poem by Benjamin Hickmott
Michael
Rating: ★5.0
The gleam of your white armour
lays waste to every contour
edges as if washed away
take leave, a loss of focus
porous planes, once hard
submit their once proud shine
gravity gives up its hold
retracting into deeper domains
not willing to take up the challenge
what hope, a lowly worm like I
to be her night in shining amor.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: loss
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8/28/2026 6:13:38 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
