Sifted Sand Against Bricks of Bone
Sifting through the things that I need versus the things that no longer serve me:
People that make me uncomfortable
People that have too many opinions about every subject. To me that means they have a scattered focus. They drift to and fro without a concise resolve
They pattern without purpose
They wither and faint
Their bones shiver when they see war
But I will fight for them
For my sister who fears no tomorrows
To the woman who sits behind blind eyes
Without resolve she awaits the pleasures of the world
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.
