Pride

O, what is pride

That we holdeth onto it.

‘Tis as dew naked in the sunlight,

A beautified bouquet, fresh trim’d,

A flame flickering in the roaring rain..

A mere feeble flamboyance;

That withers as swiftly as breeze through our fingers..

O, what is pride

That we holdeth onto it.

-AfterTim-

Reviews

[SwagMaster]

This is a beautiful poem, cleverly constructed. Love it