Vault
What is it to hold one’s tongue of its most beautiful riches? / Why, if the heart, why, if the mind, why, if the soul are printing money, can I not spend it on you? / Look at this vault with no more room / The floor plans to cave in soon.
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
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.