PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

a schism created between

madness and sanity

number the routes

confusion is the perfect road

see the way she moves

as she is already gone

at that age, I gave no sympathy

on the journey with little baggage

forbidden fruit as times grew silent

neither forgiveness

nor surrendering

legs stadling sweet sweat,

and the bones rattling nobody's done yet

when it counts

only a symbolic gesture

of My dirty face

exposed to oblivion

the fall from grace

find the serious man

with  a lump in his throat

where the wicked minds like to  gloat

and tear drops hurriedly born

and again fell related to scorn

off the cheeks of ancient kin

where shivers are sent wandering and flesh rippling

then tears fall first as drips and then onto mighty streams

within the subtle postscript of moonbeams

stolen shadows beckon the tongue and lips

desirous of one last touch from silken fingertips