The Glass Dome
A glass dome, smudged
smudged from past fingerprints
from prodding, trying, sometimes
just too hard
to get in,
The dome glass was not too thick,
but impenetrable, a dream too
far away,
Inside the dome was confusion,
an impossibility of extremes
a life too perfect
and with sighs of; “if only”
Each day
more fingerprints would appear
upon the glass
of the dome of disatifaction.
Copyright © Lorraine Ferns | Year Posted 2013
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