Foolish
Puddles of perfection, ripple with time,
endless motion between your world, and mine.
Snow caves of imagination, heated by thought,
foolish is the keeper when nothing is sought.
Broken desires the wind at your heels,
reaper of truth still lusting for a thrill.
Words spoken in anger cut like a blade,
flowers of forgiveness, thrown upon your grave.
Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2007
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