Friday, January 8, 2010


Rating: 5.0
Only strong belts of endurance
Can hold back this magical fluid
From pouring down one's countenance.
It is the wheel barrow
That carries out the wreckage circumstance leaves
After shaking a life in its moments of dominance.
It is the silent words
That turn around dispositions
By showing spirits
The different colors of sunlight.
It is the rain that keeps a waif company
And crowns bar-raisers.

I am jealous
Because everyone sees it in oodles
When season wearing the right circumstance comes.
But I don't.
Because my well of tears
Is arid with nothingness.
Kobik William
Mae Bonnin 21 January 2010
This is great. I like how you descrive the tears as 'magical fluid'
0 0 Reply
Alf Hutchison 19 January 2010
'Because my well of tears Is arid with nothingness'. Your ending is so apt.... well penned....Alf
0 0 Reply

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