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Paint my heart as empty
all blue and black and grey

Around it perforate a circle
from beginning back to start

Paint it very gently
then quickly pull away

Tearing it out
without ripping it apart

Someday they'll surely place it
in the Gallery of Fools

Inside the Wailing Walls
out past the Hall of Shame

And when the people face it
they'll cherish their own hearts

As if anatomy has
anything to do with pain

©Jason Cole
  May 2016 Evangeline Rose
Stephan
.

*If I were a poem
I’d ask you to fold me up
and put me in your pocket,
then at the end of the week,
toss me in the wash
with the rest of the clothes

And when you find me later,
smudged and smeared,
ripped and tattered into
little unrecognizable pieces,
don’t worry about it,
I was already like that
I have been notified that this poem was plagiarized and posted on Poetfreak by someone using the name Blurry Face. I can assure you, this is my poem.
  May 2016 Evangeline Rose
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Almost
is the saddest word

It's never enough
it's quite, but not entirely
nearly, but not exactly





almost does not make
quite a difference,
does it?
Pour energy
into your
words

Write with intensity
so great
that if you held the page
from a mountain's peak
your words
would be mistaken
for
stars
wow! I'm so honored to have been selected for the daily. I feel like there are far more deserving writers than I!
Thank you everyone for reading my work and all the lovely comments.
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