Category: Writers Block
Golden bullet casings in a cold silver heart,Lying loosely on the soft black velvet,The gleaming hollow shells where fond memories once resided,Look but never touch my dear,You wouldn’t want to stain them with your contaminated fingers.
Lifeless little dolls; twins of cold porcelain imprisonment.Their auburn hair is matted now, left untended over time.Sister one and sister two, remember when you played with them?The three years since then feel like forever don’t they?You’ve changed so very much.
Cheap necklaces and bracelets that you’ve worn maybe once or twice.A broken chain that held the cross you wore so many nights.An empty wooden picture frame with the photo ripped away,A bottle of lotion eons old carries the cent of strawberries and cream.
The shirt she wore with the fringed sleeves and hem that captured your attention,It lays atop the hidden treasure and you’ve dawned it occasionally since then.The dollar that he folded so carefully for you still holds its bow tie shape,Remember that night when you last laughed?Or are the images slipping away?
Lies lies, deadly lies that stripped the dream away.And now you're disillusioned aren’t you? Well, escape isn’t that far away.The little box with the little lock is your most cherished possession now.The treasure chest of memories with bullet casings in the heart.
Bla, the rhythm is off a bit but the poem's about something precious so, who cares.
It says something sad. It's good. Thanks.
Bob
That first line, "Golden bullet casings in a cold silver heart,Lying loosely on the soft black velvet," awesomely beautiful right to the last line, "The treasure chest of memories with bullet casings in the heart."
Excellently written, once again hun. God, you're an exceptionally tallented author. Good job.