The Lines

The lines
They overlap and intertwine
Edges, vague and indistinct
Waiting to be crossed.

Drawn by society
And the compass of morality
Their fickleness temptation
That beckons the weak and brazen.

Thin lines define our lives
Like those hidden within
Genius and insanity
Pride and endless vanity.

Like wrinkled paper
Irreversible it is
Crossing a line
Forever scarring the soul.

A misplaced stroke
Past the edge of the painting
A secret dent
In the perfect plane.

And with time
The dents and strokes
Accumulate and grow
Until hidden no more.

Like scars that cling
To the body and soul
Bared for the world
To judge and behold.

Reviews

[K. Louis]

so many lines that string things together and separate them at the same time...
the shifting of those lines is interesting..
There were some really nice l i n e s in this..."A misplaced stroke"..."wrinkled paper irreversible it is crossing a line" ...Nice work.

[Judy Basmaji]

Thank you! I'm glad you liked it :D

[Knightingale]

Your poetry has a way of speaking about very human flaws in a completely understandable and, yet, a very unique way. Keep up the good work.

[Judy Basmaji]

And you do the same =D