![]() The PointA Poem by Footprints al carbon![]() Life is like that.![]()
The sharpest point that ever made,
a way into the darkest glade, where truth's desire has been forbade, where hope's ambition is overpaid, has found a means to make the grade, and told the secret never played, upon the stage when no one stayed, to make a show of every spade. You know that point so sharp, so fine, it makes no mark except a line, to carry ahead as if to shine, a radiant light to help unwin', does it begin with yours and mine, where everything is just a sign, pointing out a thorny pine, within a forest where points combine.
© 2017 Footprints al carbon |
StatsAuthor![]() Footprints al carbonPhoenix, AZAboutI'm a part time poet, usually during waking hours. An idea must be fed and put to bed in harmonic frequency as to the sun moving about the sky. Poetry is exhausting so burn clean my peoples. more..Writing
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