Elegible

by Poet on the Piano   Mar 8, 2011


He painted my skin with graceful bars
smudged in awestruck pen & falling hand,
the black took harshly to cream stars
as I rubbed harder, the apathy would mock.
Screams did not keep him away or cause fear,
when I exhibited the grand finale during Italian traffic
he didn't bother to write signs for my finding.
Like the rest of nature's puppets he recoiled
on his fairy string, reborn for another human desire.

This time though, I didn't change my visage,
I merely struck the scene and erased all history.
I have no name of sorrow,
simply the name of a deviated child.

Author notes

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Latest Comments

  • 13 years ago

    by Ingrid

    You desrcibe what you see in the picture very well, MaryAnne....a very sad image indeed of a young girl lost, like so many are and always will be.

    Well done:)

    5/5 Ingrid

  • 13 years ago

    by Courageous Dreamer

    Rubbed seems like an awkward word to me. Not sure what you'd replace it with but just seemed a bit awkward to read.

    I love the image you wrote from, after reading the poem then looking at it, it really brought the poem together for me and made me understand some lines that I didn't in the first place.

    Awesome! Nice to see a new poem.

  • 13 years ago

    by Yakari Gabriel

    He painted my skin with graceful bars
    smudged in awestruck pen

    ^
    That was amazing! Lovely opening...

    If I ever had to describe this poem in one word I'd say...-melancholic-
    The ending left me in such awe...no name for sorrow? How gloomier can it get?

    Stunning piece!! Claps claps!

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