feel like lead
grieving for a lighter sense of day
bed of nails
inside screams and scratching walls
for a smaller sense of scale.
and outside
worlds are turning
by the minutes
and here I stand
panning sand for morsels
made of rust
flaking flecks from palaces worn
to ruins
their ivory a precious taint
precarious
skin of bone
collected dreams of wonder aimless
home sweet home
numbing thought aspire to little more
than less.
©robertgreig2009
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2 comments:
You've got some reaaly great lines in this piece. I love"a smaller sense of scale", "panning sand for morsels", "their ivory a precious taint". Great use of minerals here. You stayed true to the theme in style. I like the sound bite quality blended with continuity. That is not easy to do well IMO. Good one.
ty Jim... much appreciated.
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