Stitches

The more he should pull,
The more of a mess he will make,
These stitches that itch,
Maybe he is blind,
To this,
To me and my bubbling temper,
What once was a fine battlement
Is weathered from passing storms,
It is now a crumbling, tumbling wall.
Our ship is sinking
Low
Low
Hello?
Do you hear me?
Can you hear me?
Won't you listen to me?
I can hear you over the waves.
Hurricanes will take and take again,
And maybe I’m just in the giving mood.

Reviews

[zainul]

Sweet conclusion will make everyone think about the giver.:)

[QuietlyCrash]

"To me and my bubbling temper,
What once was a fine battlement
Is weathered from passing storms,
It is now a crumbling, tumbling wall.
Our ship is sinking'
There is something about those lines that make this poem for me. I love your use of imagery it makes this piece so beautiful.
Best wishes,
Riley :)

[Melissa Ridge]

Thanks for your review! (: