This one has some real funky formatting, but I kinda like it....lemme know what you think...
smo
The world is your oyster,
they say.
They tell me I have the
world
at my
fingers.
The world is my oyster,
I am not its pearl
but a grain of sand.
I itch and I ache and I grow and
eventually,
They will open up my oyster wide,
they will take me in their fingers,
they will gasp and smile at the
beauty
I've become.
but they don't think
even for a moment, that
deep inside me,
that grain of sand still sits.
aching,
for the oyster,
the world,
my world,
from which
they just stole me.
The world is my oyster,
but my oyster is gone.
YOU ARE READING
Organized Chaos - These are My Thoughts
PoetryNo, These are not poems. So flimsy a thing as can be called a few words on a page. These are thoughts. Paper thoughts, broken and scattered and gone like the wind. Iron anvil thoughts, never leaving though it is all I can ever ask of them. Invisible...
