The Artist in You
A vein in me narrows a little bit every day,
I have tethered myself to shallow promises;
strengthened my organs of clay,
and deceived them to believe
Forever is either momentary bliss or death.
But then I heard a call in the blinding dust, echoing;
I saw you assembling pieces of my skin,
meaningless, disintegrated, ignored-
And sewing them up considerately;
A new form generating in creases of cordial hands;
a miracle stitched up all together,
by an artist devoted to life.
Copyright © Cloud Fever | Year Posted 2025
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