Quote:
Originally Posted by rhino
Mirror, mirror on the wall, keeper of the truth
can time be traded for a coin, and bought the gift of youth?
Could we smoothe, like pebble stone, the lines upon a face
but to remove the journey would treasured memories erase?
Memories of birds of youth, whose song we all did sing
the hopes and dreams we carried, the world tucked beneath our wing
The reflection that you give shows me shades so pale and stretched
but on the flesh, the wisdom scars, all knowledge there is etched
Lashes once were thick and dark, and eyes of flaming light
have said goodbye to summers day and settled into night
but in their place, as bodies fade, a seed of wisdom grows
and nurtured well, the blooming bud becomes a glorious rose
A flower whose scent of passion has surely cast a spell
and with each falling petal, a tale of love will tell
Youth is for the kindling, whose sparks have yet to light
while beauty carries scars, but its fires are burning bright
Mirror, youth is just a chance, an opening of a door
I've entered through and now i see, that beauty is much more
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I really like this piece, I always get excited when you post in here
I found a poem today I wrote when I was 16:
The Poets Collection
Taught in this field the masters teach,
But student eyes seem to beseech.
No words, nor money or endless glory,
Can ever create the perfect story.
Hearts and minds will never be crossed
As so many emotions will end up lost.
The battle of one, this endless quest;
A mans spirit is hopeful at best.
Knowledge sought and knowledge brought,
Still our feelings can never be taught.
Hapless in life; books and palms read,
Hopeless with love, carve poetry instead.
Taught in this field, the poets collect,
Never really knowing how much they neglect
the one that loves them; live for rejection,
only empty dreams in the poets collection.