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March 03, 2005

by Kyle F.

Perfection’s Imperfection

7 February 2005

The velvet skies(of pink and yellow)
Smiled softly on the lover’s bed,
And sang them to their sleep.
But the lover-boy woke upon a dreaming cloud:
These silver screens, this subtle fantasy
That has so sweetly kissed my skin,
Have turned me to the prison yards,
Crying out ill-tempered hymns
About the places that I could have been.
So misconception(and a fearful heart)
Have got this lover-man to his start,
Where the streets are flooded
By liquid wilted roses,
Smelling of Perfection’s loss
And a saddened naïve mind.


Author’s Note: Regretfully I admit that I am not satisfied with this poem; nor do I find any other work of mine to suffice. But still it is all that I am capable of producing. Enjoy it if you can.

Posted by dwillia at March 3, 2005 09:29 AM

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Comments

You have very demanding standards for yourself (author's note); I think this is an outstanding poem. More later.

Posted by: dwillia at March 3, 2005 09:32 AM

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