Enigma
Life is a salad bowl of failures-- too painful
It's sauce and drizzle is a cauldron of tears
More often bitter-- not swallowable
In order to digest, it takes years.
At times, it tastes tangy and sweet
Like an icing on top of a custard cake
Melts in your mouth, sweeps you off your feet
If consumed, ailment is what you take.
Yet, no matter how steamy the soup is
You savor it while hunger is lingering
The searing pain causes ironic bliss
But won't fill your whole being.
The peculiarity of defeat's aftermath
Brings forth horrendous trauma
Leaves you fully concealed of fear and wrath
Truly, life is mysteriously an enigma.
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.
