Winamop.com Poetry on the internet

No Less a Life

When the skin you wear
Withers as if
It’s an enemy conspiring
Your doom

And the bones that once
Seemed forged of steel
Now bend with a heavy
Burden

And the face you see
In the tarnished glass
Looks back with a sad
Regret

Take heart in the fact
That the soul you bear
Is a candle no wind
Can kill

Child of Nature

She rides her bike

To the house of flowers

Where she knows every bloom

By its name

As if each one

Is an old dear friend

Whose story is rooted

In her heart

Then leaves at night

To return to the room

Where she dines alone with

Her shadow

Wondering when

Her bed might become

A garden of brilliant

Red roses

Notes on the Music of Humanity

Some people

Are like pianos

It takes a special touch

To keep them in tune

And some people

Are like guitars

When they’re stroked too hard

Their strings will break

And some people

Are like saxophones

They are given no place

In the realm of symphonies

And some people

Are like drums

That will only speak

Under the force of blows