Poem -
The. Faces.
That which we reach for. By coffins.
Is wrong.
Collectively hoping it wont last.
Too long.
The chief grievers. Mown down.
And lost in a crowd. Which states.
You can cry. But.
You mustn't out loud. The. faces.
All close up, pretending mass
hurt, the sympathy. Fake.
Flooding into dark dirt. That.
Which we reach for. By coffins.
Is wrong. This day is for grieving.
Tomorrow. Move on.
M ~
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Comments
Very sadly reminds me of the ones I've been too. 🌹
❤
Another stroke of genius, Marion! I whole heartedly agree with what Bernie has said about your writing and writing style. A professor of poetry I happened to come across on line, on another site, told me that it is possible to teach anyone how to write poetry, but you can never teach them to have a voice. A poetic voice, according to him, is elusive. A decent poet will always always have their own unique voice. Not many students of poetry will ever find their voice. YOU, Marion, have a poetic voice. You are a talented poet xx
Hello Tina, I think everyone has a voice but rules restrict. I think it was our old friend Icarus Flock who once told me
'rules are for breaking' So true, once you abandon ideas of what can and should not be written about and all the structures which someone else said we must use to write..there it is...freedom!!
Your complementary comment has touched me deeply...I truly thankyou love...for your support xx
All them up there .. they are all write each n every one .. x
Thankyou x
My pleasure M xx