Masterpiece

I know you saw me fall apart.

I've lost my soul, my fingers are numb, and I cant find my heart.

Without you I am nothing and I cannot stand to breathe.

I can be your masterpiece just reassemble me.

My soul is in your pocket, my heart in no mans land.

My fingers will feel alive again if you just take me by the hand.

So fix this broken girl find every missing piece.

I can be your masterpiece if you just reassemble me
 

 

Author's Note

What do you think? Constructive critisism welcome.

Reviews

[Pax Analog]

What I really like about this deceptively simple work, is the viewing oneself as an "assemblage". That's an emphasis key to conceptual art mind, as well as basic spiritual cognition.

It is amazing the gesture made in this poem -- but then the lover would really have to know what he was doing! Aye, there's the rub. . .;-)

As someone who perceives that most of the world's problems are caused by ideologizing poor psych design, your poem is both deconstructive and anthemic in its profound implications.

It's too bad so many who need just the kind of fixing-unto-masterpiece that you invite, don't think they need it. There is nothing stranger than inability to see the naked parts of your own construction of identity (at least much of it), but such blindness is typical.

Anyway, this poem is a beautiful reminder, and a beautiful invitation to a masterful hand. I like your X Sandra X handle too.

All I want to add is, please do not forget the archetypal components in this piece. It will stand you in good stead vis-a-vis approach to art, psyche, and relatedness. It is a towering demand, truth be told, but if you understand your own implications in great depth, you will attract the best soul-mind hands.

[Forest Green]

Truly sweet poem...the last line is the only weak spot but the rest is flawless.

Nice work...