Wednesday, April 30, 2008

a box

a box holds my heart
whether it was of brown paper or gold lining seems
a box holds my heart

a box holds my heart
and it is that which is carried
by hands always different in the manner of handling

my heart hides
but it is not given defense against
stealing in through hinges and crevices crafted by clever men

my heart hides
but it can not stave of the hungry
of an empty bed or an open door that once knew life in a different form

a box holds my heart
in the hopes that love would cease to
in the guise of friendly tones and a caress of misled beginnings


Billy said...

Wonderful! I especially like the fourth stanza! Excellent work.

faye said...

found your blog through soulless' blog. wow. love your poetry! will be a frequent visitor from now on. :-D

cargwaps said...

thank you faye. your comments are too generous. :) do visit again although i haven't been too faithful in updating my blog. ;p