Golden

There is a golden lady

who dances amid little notions

in my mind

she was a cat, at first

then she died, landing on

and squashing my happiness

then she became a paper clip

twisted

digging into saddened skin

then a girl with innocent, brown eyes

and dark wavy hair

running away with my heart

then junk food, grease and tears

to fill the hole

that she used to reside in

now a camera

a simple little thought

that someone wants to

hear me talk

now a keyboard and

a screen

and a poem

about happiness.

but poems always have to end.

Reviews

[Sophia V]

I love this! ................................................

[richy]

This is such a nice story. Just because it's a little sad but so real. I've put my self into many things and i always just want the realization of "this is the one". beautifully done.

[aluminara]

Well, that poem "was" heavy. First of all, it is dramatic in its semantical meaning; secondly, it is sentimental in its artistic structure; thirdly, it is a postmodern compilation in its literary function. I would recommend you to cultivate your talent, as you poem is (a) firmly structured (b) but also plain to the first-reading, though its meaning is (dis)appearing in poetic images. Keep up with the good job!