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a poem about autumn leaves falling
porcelian breaks not bruises
bruises are black
poorcelian stays white as it falls apart in the rain
drowning in puddles
pushed by soles of shoes
into the dead soul of concrete paradise
Eden is urbanised
theres more than 2 beings
and palms are skyscrapers
that get closer to the sky
Porcelian cracks under careless shoes
Bruises line the hips of shadow girls
but you cant tell the difference.
Wow, this is a great peice very original. Ive read only two of your poems so far, but you have amazing talent. I will continue reading. Rae
This poem is great, but the last two lines, chilling as they are, add a huge amount of power to what is already there.
Seryddwr