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Matchbox

Picked you up

Turned you around

Stroked your feet

Knocked your crown

 

I looked inside

Took last light

Struck it hard

Flared the night

 

Burnt the skin

Flame lives within

Bound by Stockholm

Protected from wind

 

Loyal knights

Play a tune

Of ruined castles

In shallow dune

 

Didn’t burn away

Like it should

Fuelled by silent

Embered wood

 

Saved yourself

Sold me out

Yearning glowers

Stagnated doubt

 

Punished all ways

For your mistakes

Redemption pyred

Blind faith waits

 

Never will betray

the nearly known

Disordered ego

Your foresaken drone

 

Limerence fades

Reveals the reality

Sees the matchbox

In it’s totality

 

© Katypoetess 2013

 

 

lovelove poetry

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Owl Ghost ►

Comments

Profile image

Nigel Astell

Tue 6th Aug 2013 14:16

The nearly known
is the broken
it's the matchbox
that can't open.

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