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Premature Rose

Poetry By: Ousma

I don't wish to announce the meaning of this poem... it voices a fear that I am still not ready to face. Have fun deciphering.

Submitted:Apr 12, 2012    Reads: 25    Comments: 9    Likes: 4   

A twisted malformed highway meanders inside

Coated in shattered glass and broken things

My legs are strong and carry me in stride

In my pretty head a free mind gives me wings

Elegant skin glows with soft sunlight

A picture of fortune and health on the outside

Yet on this paper I finally speak of a fright

I feel when the twists and pains leer on the inside

I grit my teeth, pretend it's not there

I may as well run from my shadow at dusk

There's no place I can go beyond its stare

I fear the inner scent of death and musk

When that spark in me seizes and grows

Will he drag across the broken glass roads

For me to shed premature in a flood of rose

Leaving me empty and alone to write mournful odes?

With wide supple hips I am so fertile and robust

Yet these menacing inner pains make me fear

That truly I am constructed of twisted dead rust

I will walk strongly on without a single tear

Until I must face that awful truth at last

When I find my arms empty in some distant year


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