Breaking the Mold
Clay mold
matters not humidity
Skin taut
worries not frigidity
Sky grays
in a mood morbidity
Drops fall
on my skin's rigidity
Softens now
arms and legs begin to crack
Eyes blink
surely there's no turning back
Move me
but please leave my soul intact
De-shelled
left in love to be exact.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment