deepundergroundpoetry.com

Silver linings and Insignificance

Tissue-paper irises ringed with
an alcoholics rusted lining
(as Fates pot of silver
paint was padlocked firm)
flit from the clock-hands to
the sky at compulsive
intervals.

The skyline wavers blunt and sharp,
darkness tipping the scales.
As grass stems rock me in their
softly swaying hammock,
I feel weightless.

My green glass bottle lenses
illuminate specks of distant light.
There is something breath-taking
in being insignificant.

Something that unleashes
the silver lining.
Written by Scribbler12
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 15 reading list entries 0
comments 31 reads 1074
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:34am by mysteriouslady
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:09am by crimsin
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:03am by crimsin
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:59am by Grace
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 11:09pm by LunaGreyhawk
COMPETITIONS
Yesterday 9:52pm by NANCY_RDZ_STORIES