Stonemasons

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Down cold, strange, dark streets she sauntered, quite smitten.
reciting her love, to the universe written.
The once monotone, bounced to life to inspire.
The inkwell; her soul. perfect fuel for her fire,
A fire so bright, she was sure soon to tire.
Yet the furnace blew out, from her chest warmth and care.
Met where they were with milque, empty stares.

She reach to these ones, who were broke just like she.
A lighthouse to guide the lost ships out at sea,
to the shore, where she awaits their return patiently.
Upon which she'd hug them and greet them with glee,
so ready to show, just how great love can be.

But something is wrong, they pushed her away.
For what exact reason she just could not say.
From over the wall they had built to encase,
they snickered and laughed and spat in her face.
"Your love is a lie, your heads out in space."
"The way that you act is a total disgrace."

With bricks from their walls, they launched their attack.
Still as she ran they shot bruise to her back.
Panting she brushed all the dirt off her skin,
"It's okay." She then whispered. "we can just try again."

Each new attempt was met somewhat akin.
Soon she had found it quite hard to begin.
Her body was broken, it just couldn't move.
But the bag she held tight was full and could prove,
that her love made a difference, although no one knew.

She stared to the sky, in the snow she just smoldered.
The memories, laughter and grief that she shouldered,
'was never for nothing' she thought with a grin.
With all of her might, her hand slid deep in.
The place there was snug and fit like a glove,
into her chest, she pulled out the core of her love.


It beat still and was warm, clearly weathered and torn,
yet willing to give albeit the scorn.
With a kiss she left the embers upon her last sigh.
Which honored her wish, floating up to the sky,
becoming a star, the travelers guide.


She bid them adieu, with that her last breath,
but this to her seemed much less like a death.
The stars, they shone down on her emptying shell,
a path for her soul, the wind for her sail.

Wind so strong that in fact, it had blown back the flap,
of that bursting brown sack that had sat on her lap.
What made this sack large and suspiciously thick?
Upon closer inspection its full up with brick!
From the walls of the ones that she couldn't help try,
that now thanks to her, were a little less high.


Submitted: October 25, 2020

© Copyright 2020 BeautifulDoubt. All rights reserved.

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Comments

hullabaloo22

This carries a very strong and very true message. Compassion and empathy are frowned upon and are often met with violence. A very well written piece of poetry.

Sun, October 25th, 2020 7:03pm

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