PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Fares


Drops of golden, wasted space Pressed upon a solid face. Windswept strands of faded truth Blown across the palms of youth. Cautioned, never came to phase, Wearing starlit, glassy haze. Silent daring, happened be, Watercolored passions leave. Yet it stood, a frozen June. An icy rose I'd yet to ruin. Taken each, fragile breath, Fled my hands from what they said. Turned to late, but just in time, Burnt the hills, that purple sunrise. Time, it changed, and this as well, Threw the rose and bid farewell. Watched my love float away in the endless sky, Swear I heard your voice in the wind's lonely cry. Swallowed by pain, this misery, Tossed into these strong waters that know how to carry me.
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.