Irony
life
this passing through
strive, strain
to attain
standards arbitrary
success, succession
blinded to beauty
by beauty
miss the point
until the end.
perhaps
we are extras
in the dreams
of one, who waits
to be born.
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.