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maria-enika-rPoems
I’m locking away all my metaphors Packing up all these stupid similes. My rhymes and I are        Out. No doubt can bail me out From this decision. Blinded by illusions Of sincerity Happy hyperboles of fidelity Reality Rips my pages To shreds. My personifications are Dead. Like my underfed heart. Part of me will remain As lifeless as this page. Don’t let my pentameters Hold you back. Let my lyrics liberate you. Revel in this                                 drop Our rhyme was only ever an end stop. Here is your conclusion. Your last allusion True Because No matter what you do,                                              No girl will ever again write poems for you.
0
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 12:33 PM UTC
The Last Poem
I’m locking away all my metaphors Packing up all these stupid similes. My rhymes and I are        Out. No doubt can bail me out From this decision. Blinded by illusions Of sincerity Happy hyperboles of fidelity Reality Rips my pages To shreds. My personifications are Dead. Like my underfed heart. Part of me will remain As lifeless as this page. Don’t let my pentameters Hold you back. Let my lyrics liberate you. Revel in this                                 drop Our rhyme was only ever an end stop. Here is your conclusion. Your last allusion True Because No matter what you do,                                              No girl will ever again write poems for you.
maria-enika-r
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maria-enika-r
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 12:33 PM UTC
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