a box holds my heart
whether it was of brown paper or gold lining seems
irrelevant.
a box holds my heart
a box holds my heart
and it is that which is carried
away
by hands always different in the manner of handling
my heart hides
but it is not given defense against
pain
stealing in through hinges and crevices crafted by clever men
my heart hides
but it can not stave of the hungry
cold
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
visit
in the guise of friendly tones and a caress of misled beginnings
3 comments:
Wonderful! I especially like the fourth stanza! Excellent work.
found your blog through soulless' blog. wow. love your poetry! will be a frequent visitor from now on. :-D
thank you faye. your comments are too generous. :) do visit again although i haven't been too faithful in updating my blog. ;p
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