Today's poem: Confessions

Confessions

We threw rocks into the inner world

as if we’d hit a mark.

I took a sunken look as treasure

until that glow was all heads

some ship lost when the plank

was in the eye and they turned back.

Find any design unraveled back to nothing

but a straight line under a title of a book

and call this hard work you built to live in.

Start to finish it’s been made to last wallpaper

chalk and stains.

Was it wrong to spill my guts?

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Wow this is really beautiful!

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I particularly like these two lines. It brings to mind the vulnerability we expose our innermost selves to when we confess something to others.

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Spilling your guts right or wrong all depends on the person you spill then to. Some people I would never confess to, others, I would.

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Excellent poem! You have a real gift, Daze.

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