I Am a Child
A male peacock that soars free,
As one may aspire to be.
Free until reality,
Is a crow all one can be.
So weave stitches onto these lips,
For the words that come out of it,
Unravel wolves in sheep’ clothing.
Despite one yet to resemble many.
Gesture looks at one’s mirror,
To see not what eyes see.
But how a despairing heart,
Impaired can repair.
Not by mere reflection,
But by holy interventions.
When one calls upon Father,
And be responded with “Child”.
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.
