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I have diamonds for eyes --
Do you think I'll ever need them?
I have an open ear --
Do you think I can't hear your curses?
I count the bones on my fingers --
Do you see that they are lacking?
I have a caved lung --
Will this be a testament to my hunger?
I try to find my mind but it is not there --
Am I to be a slave to your thoughts?
I am encased in pure ivory --
Have you thought of a tactile universe?
I have a contorted body --
Did you fail to remember as you mould me?
I have a withered soul --
And you call me yours?
Though I have these gifts --
Should I be thankful?
For your passion?
For the rings on my fingers?
For your chisel?
For the baubles around my neck?
My dear Cypriot king,
Oh, how you spare me from beauty!
You are no more a sculptor than I am yours.
YOU ARE READING
(Hope this is not trash) Poetry
PoetryPoetry dug from my trash bin. [[Featured in Random Reading List by @WattpadPoetry]] ----- AWARDS under Poetry Category: 🥇 1st Place, Sunflower Awards 2019 🥈 2nd Place, The Water Awards 2019 🥈 2nd Place, Creative Awards 2019|First Edition 🥈 2nd...
