The old womanA Poem by Jason
Secret scars covered with skin,
Dry, patchy, scaly and thin,
Frail to that of this harsh weather,
Not soften so, to hold this feather,
Nightmares true, bleeds out through pores;
Sweat now blood, wrinkles now sores,
Aching age is altered, angered and anile,
Misery and sadness now follows a smile;
Once drunk in the pool of youth,
Forgotten how, these dreams were truth,
Wisdom now broad, and beauty, not restored,
Her stance before me, is fragile, feeble-
And well-endured
© 2008 JasonReviews
|
Stats
840 Views
8 Reviews Shelved in 1 Library
Added on March 3, 2008Last Updated on April 3, 2008 |

Flag Writing