How can you expect to give your heart while saving face when every soul standing before her is an open book
She reads your mind digesting thoughts rendering each word null and void until presented on a Silver Platter
And...
You hold her affection wrapped as a gift possessed but unaccepted keeping your reaction abstruse and Alarming while her intentions are undeniably authentic
But...
When the bow becomes a Padlock and the wrapping paper weathers away into stone you'll look into the mirror
At the Face you saved and ask yourself over and over again how could such anguish have been worth so relentlessly
what a great metaphor..how many times have we all been down this road..saving face clearly is lying to yourself, many noses have been cut off for this reason..your use of affection as a gift that you refuse of accept but keep without using really captured the understanding of the feeling and then the bow becoming a paddock..this just strenghtens the poem..a really well constructed and thought out piece which shows your every rising talent..
Your mind is one amazing phenomenon, let me tell you. I love the effort put into keeping the uniformity of the metaphor throughout.
The stanza that intrigued me most was "
When the bow
becomes a Padlock
and the wrapping paper
weathers away into stone
you'll look
into the mirror"
Such defined progress of stripping down to one's core. Excellent work!
Back ..I love this poem and what it says to me.. though it is a bit sad... saving someone, fighting for someone to regret it later down the line..Very good use of metaphors.
Writing....Thinking....
Most of my pieces are imagined as monologues.
I've been a fan ever since I first saw my first live show as a kid.
I consider myself pretty abstract.
more..