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