Strings of hope hastily tie the wounds,
Of dolls tossed to rot by the hearth of glum,
Masterfully skidding them to near perfect plums,
Worthless seeds have they been in remnants of yore.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Strings of hope hastily tie the wounds,
Loosen ever so slightly by a faulty trump,
As visions set too high were met by reality rather blunt,
Spiked threads left vulnerable to be plucked at bore.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Strings of hope hastily tie the wounds,
Lanky by build, never meant to pull a while worthy stunt,
In lieu faltered mid-path by mere greed crumbs,
Split ravenously till the bearer of hope grew bare beneath shore.
// a good friend of mines came up with great ideas for this lil poem ^°^
YOU ARE READING
Creatures of Mud
PoésieA set of humble poems I've written. The subjects are diverse. I'm unsure if I fully understand them myself, so a description would prove to be futile. CRITICS ARE APPRECIATED.
