Trust - Poem by Adam Pinheiro
In the open crowd, a cavalcade of faces,
A minority in the menagerie; his prison,
And on his brow a quake, a quiver,
Behind those eyes the dams of depression,
Building, forcing, holding back,
The murky madness that slowly drives him;
Drives him off this cliff, cowardice.
And they’re reaching for hastened hands,
They’re pulling, but forcing, they’re killing,
Ripping him, pushing, tearing, ruining—
Outside their eyes, a glint, a sneer,
Tricks, torrents; trading faces.
And was he supposed to guess,
That hearts of gold were in fact too cold
Too feel for feelings, his fear and cheer.
Trust is fickle, tricky tale,
A tale too terrible—long since past,
Trust did vanish, and in it’s place;
The story of a lonely boy.
Comments about Trust by Adam Pinheiro
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl