Portrait of a Man
The man examines his portrait painted by life
The life he lead, desires dulled, so much strife
A wanton spirit crying out, needing to be caressed
A disillusioned life, little remains to feel blessed.
His dream to carve memorials in stones
Poetry his hearts desire, deep within his bones
Waiting, but for what, that he never knew
Until his heart was pierced and his melancholy slew.
A meaning now he found to put his chisel in hand
To carve a stone of life, now inspired and not bland
A battle before he was unwilling to get up and fight for
Poetry flowing through his veins, he needed to pen forever more.
Pen words of love, words of desire of flowers not yet smelt
Words of wisdom, words of hope, feelings not yet felt
The toxic waste, the dregs of life abandoned and now gone
With words of love, ruby red lips, kissed away everyone.
Hope rages and surges through once clogged arteries
The disillusioned man now gets up from bended knees
No need to beg for the entrails of love never shown
The piercing freeing his heart when the arrow struck home.
Love abounds freely given just there waiting for his grasp
A love true, a deep love, and a love that er will last.
He got up and with love and understanding he started to build
His soul now cleansed with a love so strong and his heart filled.
© ~GG~08 03 2013
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