Turtle

Tears

Copyright, Turtle

These tears have grown old,
Her Lips were pure
And a mother’s love was mine
Age molds innocence,
Into frameless portraits;
So abstract, so I wish you luck…

These tears have grown mold,
Each forgotten and obtuse
Surrounding me in led
Destroying me and my god

These tears have grown frigid,
Greeting black december psalm;
It’s not a choice but i just can’t…
Descend; gallop so swiftly the cold
Thus keeping you nearest to mine
Frozen, forever beautiful,
Forever lost within my tears.

Sidebar

Share Your Poetry

See the Contributing Content guide for information on how to add your poetry to the site.