04-23-2014, 12:13 AM
Choice
It perches on my head
like a balanced book: forces
a straight spine, a forward
gaze. It whispers when I start to sink,
butterfly kisses my cheek: Wake
up, it sings, use me now.
Sometimes it's deep in my pocket,
Bena's stone; I grasp
empty handed, solid and sure
it reminds me: it's not complicated,
there is no secret,
choose.
It perches on my head
like a balanced book: forces
a straight spine, a forward
gaze. It whispers when I start to sink,
butterfly kisses my cheek: Wake
up, it sings, use me now.
Sometimes it's deep in my pocket,
Bena's stone; I grasp
empty handed, solid and sure
it reminds me: it's not complicated,
there is no secret,
choose.
billy wrote:welcome to the site. make it your own, wear it like a well loved slipper and wear it out. ella pleads:please click forum titles for posting guidelines, important threads. New poet? Try Poetic DevicesandWard's Tips