Bone Jar

Depth, sounds falling- like bones in a jar,

Swallowing color, skin, the sense of being- free?

These are thoughts, violent and rotten,

Looms sketching the fabric of intolerance,

That I cannot sit and sweat a smile, simply because-

Instead, dreams must be typewritten, patented,

Visions congradulated, approbation stamped and postmarked,

By others like me, warped and lying, in frustrated cardboard lives,

Whose sinking urgency cracks with time,

As the mirror greys my warm corpse, the importance of being-

Dies.

Reviews

[Daniel Olson]

Dude finally something good and worth reading. each line was actually given thought. You did well at having underlying themes, i mean you wrote it in a way that different readers can develop their own understanding. which is missing in most of the work i have seen on this site. and by the way can someone please review some of my work! i will read more of your stuff too.

[Helen Crutchett]

A great intense poem, but once again this does not fit the cinquain contest rules. Sorry, but well done! ~ Helena

[Elliot Kyron]

What an intense piece of writing. I loved it, especially the end. Absolutely gorgeous.

[A.r. Bazian]

the reflection of the existential issue in course of time, the importance of things, and entities upon which i am, all seem to fade... as time goes by!
i found this work, personally prefered to my current flow of thoughts... i liked this!
i culdnt sense the rhyme in this,a word salad... but a rather more intense piece of desmay... its not a word salad!
i like it...
its more a prose than it is a poem!
but i like it never the less!
keep it up!