That of which i speak...A Poem by ShannonIt is the emptiest type of feeling That of which I speak For this is the emotion That breaks the strong And ignores the meek Not the type of feeling Of which you can ignore Nor the type of Glory Of which you can explore Without the consequence Of a thousand bits of shattered glass This murderer leaves no evidence And its allure none can surpass Its name is truly irrelevant Its nature is unknown But when you get right down to it It exists in every home Label it once, and shame on you For labels are for the known Label it twice and it’s a shame what it will do And you won’t be fool enough to label it thrice But should you stumble upon it Young innocent and unafraid Nurture it as your only child And you may live with it unscathed Should you however try to tame it Try to tell it what to do You’ll find its lovely little thorns Tearing right into you And upon releasing it As you nurse your injured wound You’ll find others having a fit Over the horror you’ve left untuned…. © 2010 ShannonAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
Stats
160 Views
5 Reviews Shelved in 1 Library
Added on June 1, 2010Last Updated on June 1, 2010 AuthorShannonPAAboutI joined this site in 2009, when I was writing poetry exclusively. However my range has expanded and blended. My once short poems are now some sort of descriptive paragraph/free verse hybrid. I .. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|