Esoteric drops flow from her lids
Manque, complete manque
She was forever quermonious
Into the cerulean she fades again
Hope as thin as vibrissa
Xeransis of her dreams and wishes
She glances at the glass covered ytterbium
A jejune token from a vanished lover
Yet her agmirespise was strength
Now Zibeline is her only consolation
Copyright 2009 by TheVanillaBee
Ooooooh! Esoteric! I like that word. Great poem, really great! I told you that you were twice the poet that I am.
ReplyDeleteI love the words, keep up the good work :D
ReplyDeleteThese are very, very good poems! I do not understand why you put yourself down all the time and claim that you are terrible at poetry when all one has to do to successfully dispute your claim is take but one glance at these most brilliant creations!
ReplyDeleteI wish I could write poetry. (;
ReplyDelete