phantasm

withered cheeks

warm not the frost

of winter’s chill

forget-me-nots

.

used gallery

of paintings fade

as strokes peel off

with art unmade

.

a fantasy rose

though you may be

a common thorn

is all they’ll see.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s