A Life In Stone
She stands as a statue.
With a stone exterior,
But flowers on the inside.
The stone protects the flowers.
But the flowers will rot
and leave just the stone.
Cold and hard and unforgiving.
Then the stone will crumble
and the statue will be no more.
I am a statue
and I am crumbling
from the inside out.
Copyright © Verity Smith | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment