Non Conformity - Poem by Glen Cherrington
It's hard to capture passion, an elusive force beyond our grasp.
Which defies laws, time, for fashion.
A smoky is behind the door, a twitching body against the floor.
These are passion, these and dreams of virgin whores.
Bottled inside a twisted mind, in flooding horror undefined.
Unbottled, unbridled, no fixed sight to point my gaze, surrounded in a sweaty,
sticky, haze, of passion.
Floats, a far, then draws nigh, and buries it's self within your eye.
Set me a fire in smoldering sin, and leaves your heart as cheap as tin.
It's hard to capture passion.
Comments about Non Conformity by Glen Cherrington
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You