I give love to others
Penned to the finest papers
Made of gold
I put my soul onto every cursive letter
Covered with roses
In a basket weaved of my heart
And I all I get is shame
Painful scorns
Was it punishment?
How much sad, did you,
Think I had, did you
Think I had in me?
What a tragedy
Thorns cover the basket I gave to you
Where is my love in that
Flower printed handkerchief?
Delicately crafted hearts
Meet once they blow down
Now that mine's bruised
Do you want to,
Would you want to paint a
Plaster over my soul?
Covering the cracks beneath your smile
I somehow always see divine.
- skeletal poet
YOU ARE READING
Skeletal Poet's Sonnents
PoesíaInvisible Lockets July 5th, Under the pine tree, Filling my lungs with butterflies Of your smile And sandal whispers of the ground. I must be the foolish one, Seeking for love When the cupid's arrow Struck striaght in my heart. So in love I...
