Forgotten traces of a pencil – I’ve been built
by words; public reputation is the means of
being good at your own public relations.
As love’s repetition is loving those you’ve
fallen in love with, off the pages of life rather
than the scripts of perfected fiction.
And to believe your love is perfect is to rival
God's – where you become your own judge;
biased as much, for the flesh desires to feed
only itself; the flesh isn’t the perfection of love.
For everyday of life is the day for all equal dogs,
_moral or uncouth,_ posterity rests its favour –
Still a dog must know not to bite the hand that
feeds it; as it seeks the hand’s favour – wouldn’t
we all like to find favour in the hands of our Creator,
_What are dogs to their Creator?_
Mar 9, 2025
Mar 9, 2025 at 1:08 AM UTC
Forgotten traces of a pencil – I’ve been built
by words; public reputation is the means of
being good at your own public relations.
As love’s repetition is loving those you’ve
fallen in love with, off the pages of life rather
than the scripts of perfected fiction.
And to believe your love is perfect is to rival
God's – where you become your own judge;
biased as much, for the flesh desires to feed
only itself; the flesh isn’t the perfection of love.
For everyday of life is the day for all equal dogs,
_moral or uncouth,_ posterity rests its favour –
Still a dog must know not to bite the hand that
feeds it; as it seeks the hand’s favour – wouldn’t
we all like to find favour in the hands of our Creator,
_What are dogs to their Creator?_
Request permission to use this poem