Tuesday, 16 February 2016

I could have been...

I could have been,

A Grecian Urn,
Servile in gratitude,
Another receptacle,
To stow away memories,
In ashes stacked…

Or, an Earthen Pot, 
Summer's apprentice, 
Sweating and,
Doling out sweet water
In cupped hands...

I could have been yours,
And evermore. 
Whacked and cracked open—
To appreciate my innards—
If I were not.

Such less seen of so much bared.

1 comment:

  1. The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by the bad people but the silence over that by the good people. See the link below for more info.