Marble


I have longed for more-
Kept hidden myself,
Cliché as it might seem walls not high enough.
Because who can love vulnerability-
What Atlas can put themselves to the herculean task of letting another soul in?
I would rather upon my own sword fall than have a Brutus in my midst.
Yet, some proclaim that these small yet significant betrayals of either character or moral fiber build us to who we are.
If that is so,
Call me granite or yet better marble for the cold hard exterior far out weights any gain of the warmth of any ones touch.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem