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Daria Tris Poem
With fingers ghostly pale and blue,
Touching the wind that never blew,
The moon shines straightly down upon
Your forlorn and forgotten home.
There hush and stillness cover roofs,
Blind glasses, used to be so smooth,
Despise the fears of scraggy trees
Of death over a span of years.
But they are not so hopeless though -
At times they ask themselves or so
About the reason for your leaving,
Losing their grayish-rusty leaf.
Under the opaque shapes of stars,
You, drowsing on the snow-white grass,
Poor child who didn’t have a thought
How mad and cruel adults’ world.
Copyright © Daria Tris | Year Posted 2017
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Daria Tris Poem
You couldn't grow irises out of your heart -
But you could get out rhinestones,
Dazzling like diamonds -
And you bought others this way;
The others who could
Live in the dark and cold,
Painting their rusty hearts in gold -
And everyone seemed satisfied
To be a tiny parasite
In this world.
Copyright © Daria Tris | Year Posted 2017
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Daria Tris Poem
How to forget
That apple trees —
Clustering together
Against the nastiest weather,
Trembling with their knees.
Their blossoms falling down
Were curled and soft and gown
In comely shades of blue;
In pallid shapes of two.
Inside it is crying out -
No longer cold and proud,
Still loving you.
Copyright © Daria Tris | Year Posted 2017
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Details |
Daria Tris Poem
Who said that drying flowers are not beautiful?
Should we be thinking of these rosebuds so?
When even they're full of feelings sorrowful,
They don't deserve to be dispised by us at all.
Like you, they long to be admirable for one
Who culled them blooming rashly in a garden,
Their innocence was crushed by roughness done,
And now, just look how quickly they are dying!
In shaking hands the fate - to disappear,
Breathing the last but scenting as they used,
Being what you'll never bring back in this fear,
But save these petals though inside it's bruised.
Copyright © Daria Tris | Year Posted 2017
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