White-stained WallsA Poem by MachinaWriterA poem...Her low shoulders
sigh,
softly, swiftly, seeking the eyes of my lips. From which come a
cry
desperate, dying from the whisper of my fingertips. And with her plea I
see, -the
shadows in-between my silver, silent
dreams. Cast upon by lights
Against white-stained walls. Silhouettes Against a
background I still have yet,
-to clean from the sound of your whisper. Stained with white. White lies, against white,
blank
minds. Uncoloured from the
ever faint,
yet fierce unspoken fights we leave
behind. Her lips pout
about, the last bout
of angry SHOUTS. But her eyes,
they smile. Aware that it has
been a while, since
we’ve added colour
to these talks, coloured white. Our vicious,
vibrant, voices of shouted truth,
splashing crimson spoken paint, with our angry calls,
against our emotionally refrained, © 2012 MachinaWriterAuthor's Note
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4 Reviews Added on November 4, 2012 Last Updated on November 4, 2012 AuthorMachinaWriterSpringfield, ILAboutMy original passion has always been in writing stories. Most of them were fantasy stories, because I always wanted to escape. That's what it was. An escape from the troubles of life. Joining this site.. more..Writing
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