Final Destination
Where is the dress, where I hold the edge of the seam
My formally flowing reservoir of dopamine?
Against her skin I made epiphanies of gold
Despite my tender age of several days old
I once vowed to not escape her silky touch
As I grew old, it turned trapping much
Beside her, now matured, I grasp my creation
She watches and grins; I met her expectations
Now with her gone, I must voyage for approval
For that is how the human mind copes with removal
Her warm aura of blossoming rosemary
It only turned out to be...temporary
I turn to face you now, Sir Statuary
Before I set off on this forever ferry
Could this destination become final?
Like my heart, which always ends on a high note?
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.
