Saturday, July 3, 2010

Hands on the clock

Distant memories, packaged in tornadoes stings the heart
Reminiscing about the bliss, before the teary tear apart
Something unusual; a rare gem
Beauty unflaunted; a stunning hem
Heart shaped velcro straps
Tempting fate to remain apart
Incarcerating pleasures littered in the magical room ajar
Passion, pride, hurt, a churning heart
Now boiling in a cauldron labeled regret
That bird should have never left its nest
Its plumage detached, it's tweeting beak severed,
And it's feet shackled with twines bandits detest.

Copyright © David Kwakye 2010

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