Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2019
-on the justification of poetry

I saw a rose I couldn't smell.
Though pointless as it seemed,
her thorns have taught me all my life
there's truth in what I dreamed.

Blessed was the day when poetry came of age,
it saved me from pacing back and forth in my cage.

Blessed are the lines that should be carved in stone,
they helped my hand to leave the bottle alone.

Blessed are the words that saved my life,
the words that fed my selfless strife.
Feggyr Citack
Written by
Feggyr Citack
Please log in to view and add comments on poems