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

Thy Perfect Creation


He molded thee with his own mighty hands

Thy beauty is shown through his fine, personal touch

He madeth thee to beest farest in the lands

That gent hath made thee compared to nonesuch

 

Thy dazzling beauty lights up the night

Thy wits art matched only to the bright scholars 

Upon every sight, thee maketh lungs airtight

Unless with thee I fit to beest a bachelor  

 

Yet thy unprecedented love, I fear
For time hath no predictability 

Every time I heareth this and can't baer

For future lies a want of imagery

 

All I truly wish is to love thee still

But coequal with love toxic pain mine brain fills

 
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

Your Poem's Voice

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

Comments (0)

Comments are closed for this poem.