Counterfeit Rimas Dissolutas
The true color of red flags is rust,
where they utter love it lies beneath;
Faded, repainted, and insincere
still there hoping you fail to see it;
Left in disgust over lack of trust
false words atrophy with broken teeth;
Vet those you allow into your sphere
aim the first punch for the hardest hit;
Accept what you know when it is clear,
fool’s gold will always be counterfeit.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
