The Edge

As the rain falls gently outside my window,
my soul dives into you.
Even the most eloquent of poets could not describe the view.

Dickinson would lose her words, and Frost would drop his pen.
I know when you were created, She knew not where to begin.

Your scars stretch far across your skin and travel to my heart.
Your weary eyes shatter me, and I fear that we should part.

You're blotted ink on parchment;
I try to make a picture.
But even Van Gogh would stop and stare
Because you're so obscure.

Every time you tremble, my mind begins to shake.
You hold such power over me, I'm skating on an earthquake.

If I could take this pain from you, I'd give my only soul.
Because you are a landslide and I am just a stone.

Reviews

[wordman]

sweet sounds of love,i enjoyed the journey

[Coyote Poetry]

Many types of edges. Some people love the edge. I liked your thoughts and strong statements. Great writers bleed to paper. Hello dear Rosie. I hope you are doing well and thank you for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Rosie Brooklin]

I always enjoy your reviews. Thank you for the kind words. I'm doing very well and I hope you are as well.

[Coyote Poetry]

I love your work and you are welcome dear Rosie.

[The Unknown Sith]

I like the flow of this very nice read.

[Rosie Brooklin]

Thank you!

[bee]

This is so lovely. I loved how you incorporated all these different writers. Whoever you wrote this for, can count themselves very lucky!

[Rosie Brooklin]

Thank you very much!