Guilt.

 

 


A broken rose trampled ‘neath

the voice of careless thought,

fallen petals ripped away

upon a thorn are caught.

Bitter call the restless winds

to tear the petals down,

as silent fall all shaming tears

that perfect bloom to drown.

 

© sweetwater 2021
UKA Editor's Pick!
Views: 235
critique and comments welcome.
Subscribe
Notify of
11 Comments
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Bhi

An extremely vivid set of images painted by this poem. a perfect little piece.

Supratik

Beautifully penned.

Dodgem

I liked this, well done sweetwater. It has an slightly archaic feel to it, and that speaks to my own sensibilities; and best of all, it says much by saying little.

Dodgem

Modern way, to me is often so-called blank verse, much of which is up its own fundament; sorry to be so coarse, but its one of my bette noir’s. I stuck it out with the Poetry Society, until I realised I just couldn’t grok the stuff being published as ‘poetry’.
Anyway, your poem is a delight, and please let your muse lead you on.

Stormwolf

This made my hair stand on end.
what more to say?
Alison x

Pronto

Bitter/sweet imaginative work. I enjoyed the read.

Flag Content