Pull My Strings
In the covert rendezvous of reality
My heart habs motionlessly.
Tranquilly, yet peace-less
In the very art of loneliness
I crave for a minstrel
Endowed with mastery of the timbrel
Cunningly curing the blisters of emotion
And poking my pox of dissatisfaction.
Copyright © Olorunsogo David | Year Posted 2017
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