"Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic."
"You could do better."
That was all it took for
Her to become a meter
Searching and scouring
A machine perfecting
She took pleasure to measure
To calculate and arbitrate
Like a working cogwheel
On a never ending reel
The ghost of a blemish
Haunted her dreams
A devilish flaw's hold
Tormenting her soul
Now the splotch of a flaw
Glared right in her face
A meagre grimy grain
stuck oddly on a train
It itched like a flea
Teasing and tickling
Like threepointonefouronefiveninetwosixfivethree
On neat pages free
A puny pebble on the path
Was the very flaw that took her
crashing into a wall, eternal
meter stopping once and for all
A repetitive robot going through a lapse
She spirals out of code, as
the seed went trickling out of her grasp
she gazed, aquiver, as it
prospered and blossomed and flourished
from the ugly green caper
A flower bloomed as her motor shattered
Unfettered of her unblemished manacles
She tastes the nectar of an imperfect flower
YOU ARE READING
Solivagant
Poesía||Solivagant (adj.) Wandering alone|| Thoughts while daydreaming in solitude. Speculations immersed in water. Imaginations left in the clouds. [Although it might not be the best, please give it a chance and feel free to give comments! :)]
