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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Wednesday, 30 October 2013

Heart to heart

Heart to heart.

Truth is my heart is not as beautiful as a peony.
My troubles loom from the dark like an enemy,
deep down from the depth of my dungeon heart
which I often try to seal closed with a manhole.
The thing is my faults haunt me so do my sorrows
but I spring from my falls and rise like a sparrow,
gold-ish in hue soaring high but ready to fall-
once again and crack to fragments like glass.
I'm fragile so handle me with care so I can share-
what I have on my table as I strive to be amicable,
for if you looked inside my heart you could go blind.
you would also find that this gold is but mere clay;
for it belongs to a mere human, so treat me humane.

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