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Girls Like Poetry

The archway of heaven is poetry,
For true love transcends the mundane.
Forget the sun, forget the moon, to me
Tired clichés are the root of disdain.
You are like... well... you're kinda like a pie.
Flaky crust on the outside, warm within.
You've got some funny lumps, I can't deny,
That dwell about and below your dry skin.
Or a kiwi perhaps, round and hairy.
But beneath that... well no, that's sour too.
Then like a T-Rex, angry and scary,
For which only blood and sweets can subdue.
And I...
        I am a fungus that hides in your shoe.
        You can run for now, but I'll grow on you.
©2008-2009 ~Shifachi
:iconshifachi:

Author's Comments

Whimsical sonnet.

Comments


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:iconmadocbitur:
You've captured a sentiment I love (that is, the idea of innovation rather than emulation in poetry, if that makes sense), and at the same time put it into perfect practice. It's light, whimsical, but at the same time deep in a sense that is hard to grasp. Great work.

--
You're sitting on a rainbow towel with your legs crossed playing with the grass wistfully. You're flaming. -Kiki
:iconshifachi:
Ha, thanks I didn't expect to receive a compliment on something like this. I appreciate it. :)
:iconmadocbitur:
Any time :)

--
You're sitting on a rainbow towel with your legs crossed playing with the grass wistfully. You're flaming. -Kiki
:iconmiradied:
lol, i love this.

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February 14, 2008
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