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

Finality


 

There's a machine that measures a resonance—
 
The full scope of sound rolled off your bottom lip.
 
I caught myself drooling again,
 
(that is)...
 
I don't think I believe in a certain something.
 
You have to have been indivisible—
 
ratio's I don't care to know.
 
The cards stacked up on a table.
 
The corkscrew kills and then the hole.
 
Making it a picture perfect harmony,
 
With dangling eyes by a stair-
 
case.
 
And.point—
 
I'm finding it a glimmer to believe
 
That this life could be fair to me.
 
Spin the bottle to your lover,
 
make it big and come back with a name,
 
Because some kind of love is a forgotten fame

 

©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.