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For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!
11/13/2017 10:33:29 AM
PRIDE YANU Posts: 1
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THE COLOUR OF SIN On a dusky holiday evening, When the bustle and hustle of city life is left behind, Salty water flows in-between his fingers Dangling from a yatch rocking the waves, Somewhere in the Mediterranean. The ripples answer the giggle of a little pearl Jumping on the laps of a twitchy daddy Lost in thoughts and reflections. Trying to draw a line, Between the lies that save men From the jeopardies of the unspoken truth, And the truths that destroy the legacy of great men. Counting how often he stood on that line And wondering why once He did cross, admitting to a truth That caused him his family. A sea bird flusters the mirage of her beauty; Twisting her lips behind the fast disappearing sun, Into a smile that would bear semblance To the crescent of a would-be moon. Placing her cute dimples upon her forehead, And leaving her face dancing in undulation. The white of her eyes matches the hue of the heavens Into which he stares deep and sees goodness, In a white unblemished around the black of her iris Sharp in contrast to the ones that stared back In the morning mirror on his wall. Excitedly she points at the wandering sky Falling off at the oval edge of the world. Pulling his beard and asking Why he doesn’t live with mummy. There he stands again, Legs astride of that line, The truth of his infidelity urges him But he lies and his eyes get brushed a new shade. That which would not be washed away By a river of tears from years of remorse. The indelible colour of sin Paints the eyes of the sinner With shades of red That thickens with every new iniquity. THE COLOUR OF SIN On a dusky holiday evening, When the bustle and hustle of city life is left behind, Salty water flows in-between his fingers Dangling from a yatch rocking the waves, Somewhere in the Mediterranean. The ripples answer the giggle of a little pearl Jumping on the laps of a twitchy daddy Lost in thoughts and reflections. Trying to draw a line, Between the lies that save men From the jeopardies of the unspoken truth, And the truths that destroy the legacy of great men. Counting how often he stood on that line And wondering why once He did cross, admitting to a truth That caused him his family. A sea bird flusters the mirage of her beauty; Twisting her lips behind the fast disappearing sun, Into a smile that would bear semblance To the crescent of a would-be moon. Placing her cute dimples upon her forehead, And leaving her face dancing in undulation. The white of her eyes matches the hue of the heavens Into which he stares deep and sees goodness, In a white unblemished around the black of her iris Sharp in contrast to the ones that stared back In the morning mirror on his wall. Excitedly she points at the wandering sky Falling off at the oval edge of the world. Pulling his beard and asking Why he doesn’t live with mummy. There he stands again, Legs astride of that line, The truth of his infidelity urges him But he lies and his eyes get brushed a new shade. That which would not be washed away By a river of tears from years of remorse. The indelible colour of sin Paints the eyes of the sinner With shades of red That thickens with every new iniquity. Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0in; mso-para-margin-right:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
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