The Perfect Poem
So stuck on fastidious thoughts, unable to make these lines rhyme;
it's like ice trapped between mountains cliffs waiting for spring...
can moodiness and dissatisfaction create the perfect poem?
For hours I tackle the unresponsive feeling that's too latent;
the language is languid, not flowing as smoothly as it should...
'till the rising of dawn words will sound lame and escape from my pen.
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.
