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Monday, March 5, 2012

Poem I Wrote Two Years Ago



Beneath the Surface

Underneath what you can see
Is something fragile, a scarlet key:
Crystalline glass, so delicately crafted:
From strings of the heart, the tissues were grafted.

So gleaming with red, so glowing with light
With a flick of a finger, it may just take flight.

Ah! Here comes the lad, "wielder" of key
To thee may I ask, what is it you see?
"I see a great power, I sense a great strength!
The object of brightness, is at my arm's length!"

So with a hand, he grasps the treasure
But to his shock, it yields no pleasure.

"Ah why did thee break at my hands touch?!"
The answer is simple:
You were simply too rough.

-Alice 5/01/2010




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