Allie Rosenthal Poet Prose

Skin Like Stained Glass -An Incorrect Sonnet-

My life is shattered pieces of stained glass,
a thousand puzzle pieces on the ground,
under a skeleton of amder brass,
red, blue, green, yellow, breaks without a sound.

I pick up pieces, trying to see me,
but I just cut my fingers on the side.
Now just an obscure view is all I see, 
and it makes me wonder how much I hide.

But its those moments when the rain falls down,
and the rust washes right off my skin.
When I catch a speak at my glowing crown,
and the clear glass lets me see within.

So I put together my stained mirror, 
and swore that I wouldn't break, or disappear.

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Anton Smith September 13, 2015 at 4:59 AM Some really powerful imagery comes through in this poem and the wording really gets the emotions across quite well. Thank you for sharing. Would you care to take a look at my friends Facebook page that might be of interest: https://www.facebook.com/Raven3.gothic?ref=tn_tnmn Many thanks!