Stilettos

Stilettos

An exercise

of intolerance,

these dreams

have all been made

by men.

 

Sitting under

the microscope,

unchanged,

but yet

different.

 

Wallowing in self pity

tortured,

by the words

they keep in their pockets,

and under

their beds.

 

And perhaps in them.

 

Little bits are left over

form the whole,

saved in shoeboxes

in the closet

of self realization.

 

And there is

something in the air,

indifference,

sitting thick like fog

just out of reach

in every woman’s nightmare.

 

It sounds like stilettos

on wet concrete.

Reviews

[Georgiakevin]

Forgot to rate you I am sorry.

[Georgiakevin]

Your poem really drew me in. I agree with North Bound heart. In the bible it says it is better to be cold or hot than lukewarm. Indifference is like that. They say the opposite of love is not hate but indifference. There is so much I like about your poem, "wallowing in self pity" when i am most discouraged is when I find myself "wallowing in self pity." Write on you are very good.

[deeps]

And there is
something in the air,
indifference,
sitting thick like fog
just out of reach
in every woman's nightmare.

I liked these lines here alot.
This is a wonderful write.