Patch Doll
Rain chasing rain,
My mother’s heritage
The ability of being used;
Make me smile,
Touch my hand,
And I am there, slave to a glimpse of acceptance.
Patch doll,
Patches of unfulfilled dreams,
Patches of buried desires.
Dreams,
Ashes twirling about,
Hovering over the grave
Of a life, unlived.
Potential of potential,
Tangible illusion,
Shapes sculpted without lines,
Without borders.
Expectation of greatness,
Anticipation of being.
Living death
Dying life,
Pushing against the cold unknown
Just to be,
Crushed by the weight of layers of pain,
No way out,
And no way in;
Cover this grave with flowers,
May their beauty,
Be my salvation.
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.
