Get Your Premium Membership

Jigsaw

The brain is inept at trying to divine the creative fantasies of a noble, at times, scheming mind, much less probe, from end to start, the crimson contours of a generous, at times, covetous heart. We can't fully know you and me; like jigsaw pieces, let us seem, at times, let us really be!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs